


Twas Beauty

by cornflakesareglutenfree



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7883140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornflakesareglutenfree/pseuds/cornflakesareglutenfree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is a slave. David is a beast. Somehow it all works out. And by "works out" I mean "bdsm" and "pseudo human transformation".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twas Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> All the warnings. If you have squicks or triggers, just don't. Click out. Back away. This is not the fic you're looking for. 
> 
> It's been a long long long time since I wrote this, and then I pulled all my fic from the interwebs, but now I'm kind of over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A new slave

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

         As the pale one shivered on the platform, Sir David sat in his alcove, enshrouded in enough fabric that the effect was surely that of an eclectic Lordling set on showing off his diaphanous robes to emphasize the quality thereof, certainly no one ever thought it could be that the fabrics were to hide the hideousness beneath. Who could have fathomed the depth of the depravity and soullessness that lived within, but no matter. This was an important outing, else he would've sent a servant to do his bidding, but that was no longer an option after the poor weaklings he'd been presented with previously.

         The three slaves that had been brought to the estate had found ways of ending their lives when they'd been shown the dungeon, or as David preferred to call it, the play room. Apparently the sight of his devices and tools was frightening, and added to that their introductory beating, could lead to madness. Or maybe it was in the water. David couldn't tell, and wasn't particularly concerned. He just needed to find another slave, because according to the prophecy, the slave would set him free, and he'd wasted such time with the previous few, he now had a very limited time frame. Six months, to be exact. He would turn twenty one and the curse would become permanent if he hadn't found "the slave who would, through the power of a submissive spirit, break open the future." Whatever the hell that meant.

         So here he sat, quietly watching the steady stream of slim, smooth skinned bodies as they passed across the platform in the sun. The day was cool, and the livestock was needfully bare, being posed each in turn to put their genitals on display for the bidders, each in hopes of finding a purchaser in order to prevent being added to the ranks of laborers who often died before their five year indenture was complete. In fact, to be chosen as a pleasure slave was seen as an honor and could provide a freed slave with a certain social standing.

Currently Sir David's attention was caught by a pale brunet toy posed on the stage. He'd been positioned into a handstand, with his legs splayed and secured open in a split while an attendant stroked the toy's hard cock and showed a very large lubed phallus to the crowd, crowing like in a circus as he pressed it into the slave's anus, securing it with a belt before also showing the crowd a penis gag, leaning down to press it into the slave's mouth, securing behind his head. After a few minutes, the slave's face was red with blood from his upended position, but wasn't released. As the toy's erection started to wane, a small cane was produced and his penis was whipped with it, leaving red stripes on the flushed, taut flesh. Sir Dave couldn't help but salivate over the show being made of this particular creature. He motioned to his servant to make an offer. This one certainly looked like he had potential.

After the offer had been accepted by the seller, Sir David's servant returned with the good news, but David only vaguely heard him over the rushing of blood in his head as he watched the performance on stage as his new possession was untied and his fillers removed slowly, the keepers toying with him by thrusting the phallus in and out of his anus a few times before removing it for good, then doing the same with the gag, only holding it tight while pinching his nostrils until a motion from David's alcove ended their fun.

David's servant went forward to retrieve their purchase, catching the lead that was attached to the collar it wore, and pulling steadily forward. By the time they reached the table, Sir David had already swept into the coach sitting so close to the rear exit of their viewing area. This placement was necessary to facilitate any outing for him, as he was quite imposing in form, and preferred not to make notice made of his presence.

The servant brought the creature with him to the door of the carriage, quietly inquiring of his Master where he preferred their purchase reside during the trip back to the estate. When a growled "Within" was his only response, he tugged the lead and motioned to the stock to climb the step, using a hand against his still bare buttocks to propel the figure inside the carriage. Taking his seat on the bench at the front of the carriage next to the driver, they were soon off.

Sir David looked at the pitiful looking pile of flesh and bone that rested on the unsteady floor of the carriage, that heap that now belonged to him for the next five years. (Though that could be fudged into forever, depending on how securely he kept his purchase, and if Sir David was nothing else, he was certainly secure.) He sent a foot forward, nudging at the unmoving pile, becoming impatient at the lack of response.

Finally he reached out a glove covered hand to grip the shivering mass by it's collar, pulling it up to it's knees. The creature jolted when he started speaking, but kept it's eyes trained on the floor. "You'll not earn yourself covering by lying on the floor, slave. If you plan on not freezing to death, I suggest you present yourself, and quickly." Sir David sat back, but only had to wait a few moments for a particularly intense shiver to shake the slim body before him. The spine snapped straight and legs were quickly folded beneath it, ass sitting on ankles with knees spread, hands coming up to link behind it's neck as it tilted it's head back, mouth open wide and eyes focused on the fabric before it's face.

Sir David hummed with approval, taking in the lovely view, allowing himself time to do so before another body shuddering shiver wracks the small nude frame. He then reaches for his own robes, pulling them open at the waist and un-hooking the waist of the pants he wore underneath with his gloved hands. Hissing at the minimal contact, he pulls his mostly soft cock out and spreads his knees, motioning at his crotch. "Suck, Mutt. Please me and I'll cover you." There was faint hesitance, so Sir David found himself reaching for the collar on either side, lifting the head of his soft penis into the still wide cavern, pulling the slave down onto his dick. "You bite me, I'll have your teeth removed from your skull, understand, Mutt? Now please me and I'll consider not allowing you to freeze to death."

A soft kitten lick against the flaccid flesh was his only response, but he couldn't expect any better, since he'd silenced the creature in the most effective way. Well, at least the most effective way shy of having his vocal cords cut, but as the new purchase hadn't made any sounds yet, he'd perhaps already been silenced. It made no matter to Sir David either way. The only purpose of this slave was the curse, and past that it might be set free, or more likely, be given to the guards as a gift of thanks. They'd like that.

Finally the little dog had gotten him hard and straining, though it was becoming difficult to enjoy as the small frame was shaking so badly with the cold, so Sir David relented, draping the fabric he wore around it, using the rough wool to pull it in closer. As he came near his peak he gripped the toy by it's hair and fucked mercilessly into the hot cavern, stilling inside as he came, pulsing into it's throat.

Eventually he pulled back, allowing it to breathe before pulling it forward so it's head rested on his lap. He shifted, directing it to open it's mouth again and guiding his cock, soft again, back between it's lips. "You'll get used to having it there soon, Mutt. My cock will soon be home to you, and when I'm pleased with you, you'll be rewarded with it in your mouth and throat. When I'm displeased... Well, we'll address that when we reach the estate, but you'll prefer to please me and have my cock in your mouth, be assured. So rest a while, Mutt, but don't let it fall out of your lips, or I'll be very unhappy."

Leather wrapped fingers sifted through the hair on the slave's head, pressing in firmly when they went over a sharp bump in the road, making sure that it never released Sir David's soft penis. David was proud of his new toy when they arrived at the estate later on. He swept his still gloved fingers over it's cheek, waking it from it's slumber, pulling his cock from between it's lips. His dick was half hard now from being rocked by the carriage gently in and out of his toy's mouth, but that would be fixed later. Maybe after Mutt had had it's welcome beating, he'd reward it by fucking it's face again. Yes, a sound plan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome Home

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

Kurt had been born in a very poor village to very poor, very wholesome, parents. He was coddled and adored by his mother and father until the age of seven, when disaster struck the Hummel home. Elizabeth died in childbed with their second child. Burt was inconsolable and his health ailed. Kurt tried to be helpful to his Father during this awful time as they both mourned, but near the yule holidays of Kurt's tenth year, Burt found his peace at the bottom of a cliff just outside their town. Kurt was moved to an orphanage where his fate would be decided. Would he go on to be trained as a pleasure slave, or would he be sent to the mines. He was slim and delicate, which made him an ideal fit for the coal mines, but he also had lovely porcelain skin and eyes that defied color ranking, and his light, lyrical voice was likened to an angel singing, so the decision was made to send him to train as a pleasure slave.

The training center reminded Kurt more of a farm than a school. Here the pupils were stripped naked and forced to crawl around in the dirt, being trained to sit for hours at a time at heel, and having their bowels stretched to fit ungodly sized objects inside them. They were regularly flushed, but quickly were trained to eat very little, subsiding on mainly a liquid diet so that they're cleaning rituals were simpler every day, that their orifices would be more often available to their eventual owners.

At age 15, he was moved from the farm to a 'campus' in the city. Here he was trained to kneel on hard marble floors, crawling to do menial tasks, using his mouth rather than his hands to do things such as dress and undress his Master or Mistress. They also tested for preference, because a slave was expected to be aroused at all times for their owner's pleasure. The students were placed in situations in which they might find themselves aroused and were monitored to see how their bodies reacted to certain stimuli.

Once the orientation of each subject was decided, they were given 'lessons' on maintaining an erection and stiff nipples. If they're breasts weren't as tender, they were massaged and treated each day, sometimes multiple times a day, to gain sensitivity in the skin, and the same rang true for the boys with their erections. There was a boy in Kurt's group who had trouble keeping his penis stiff for any length of time, so he the others in his class would take turns sucking him and rubbing a finger in his asshole against his prostate whenever he'd start to go limp. They were not allowed to orgasm, and would often be adorned with a cock ring, and at night would be dressed in a cock cage. The cage had a pin that was pressed into the tip of the penis opening and cupped around, preventing erection from occurring. The girls would wear a chastity belt during the nights, as well as metal cage bras. There were occasional 'incidents' where these steps were less effective, and the students effected would have to sleep in restraints so that they couldn't stimulate themselves in their sleep.

At around sixteen, they were introduced to gags, being trained to wear one at all times, and learning how to breathe around different types, and how to hold your breath when your airway was blocked off, trying to prevent loss of consciousness. They were each fitted with a different sized and shaped gag that they would sleep with at night. Brittany, for instance, slept with a large breast shaped gag in her mouth, and Finn had his mouth filled with a labia/clitoris/mons shaped gag that covered half his face. Kurt, on the other hand, was fitted with a large penis shaped gag. His gag reflex was weak, nearly non existent, actually, so he would sleep with a nine inch penis gag in his mouth. It wasn't very wide around, so he was able to breathe through his nose.

At seventeen years old, Kurt was removed to a pre-sale facility where finishing touches were made, fine arts (of the sexual variety), were honed, and slaves had their physical appearance adjusted. Haircuts, piercings, makeup tattoos were all a part of this particular step. Kurt was marked with kohl tattoos over his lids, giving him a smudged eyeliner look, which made his creamy paleness look even more exotic. Sam received nipple piercings and a tongue ring. Brittany had her clitoris pierced and her long hair cut short. Finn, on the other hand, was left unmarked.

The week before they 'graduated' the system, ready to be sold, they were offered to members of the school board as part of their final training. Brittany was chosen by a man named Puckerman, while Finn was sent home with a woman named Holladay, and Sam was collected by a woman named Pillsbury. Kurt, on the other hand, was loaned to the school board president's son, Smythe.

During his days with the Smythe son, he was publicly humiliated and forced to service a group of ten teenage boys within an hour. He was also made to present his asshole at all times, and was denied food if he 'misbehaved', but could earn his meals back by allowing the Smythe to fuck his throat until he passed out. When he was returned to the school at the end of the week, Smythe was praised for his ability to 'hone' the inches off of the slave, making him a slimmer, more sleek prize for the purchasers.

When it came time for the very first auction, Kurt was presented last. He was worried that all the money would be spent and nobody would have a place for him, and he'd end up working on a farm or in a mine either way, but once his presentation was complete, after he'd taken a mold of a fist up to a forearm up his ass, and a twelve inch cock gag in his mouth, all while doing a handstand, Kurt was moved to his knees,and pulled along, as he'd apparently been purchased. He was so relieved, but his mind was still muzzy from lack of oxygen and having spent so much time on his head, that he was having trouble comprehending the commands he was receiving.

He came to when large gloved hands lifted his face and a low, gruff voice gave him direct orders as he swayed on the floor of a moving coach he didn't recall climbing into, and he shivered from the biting cold of the season, determined to earn the covering this new Master offered. He would be his best, for he swore he wouldn't die in the mines.

That didn't mean that he wanted this to be his life forever, though. He simply had to make it through his five years as a pleasure slave, then convince his owner to free him. He was desperate for the future he'd always dreamed of, so he put all his effort and determination into this thing, into learning the arts of physical pleasure and submission, even as he kept his own mind hidden on the inside. Submitting didn't come naturally to him, but the options available to him, to become a grunt and die young, or to become a toy for a rich patron for a handful of years, made it a simpler decision, as did his ability to separate his mind from what was happening in the physical.

When he was loaned to the Smythe, he had to hold onto his dreams of being a performer in the city one day, maybe Paris, so that he could get through the mindless degradation. The constant pressure and dehumanization of his very person was exhausting, so he often would remove himself from what was going on. This was a role that needed playing for the here and now, and he couldn't possibly allow anyone to see past it. He couldn't break character and ruin everything, his whole life was riding on this performance.

And so he found himself, halfway propped on his knees, halfway lying in his new Master's lap, sleeping with a different type of gag, but entirely warm and comfortable while wrapped in his robes. As he came to, he felt himself being lifted into strong arms and pulled more fully into the embrace of the long folds of fabric. He clung to the impressive shoulders against him, still unable to see inside the hood, but avoiding any attempt at eye contact, because without permission, that could mean punishment, and punishment could mean very different things to different masters. He just hoped that he hadn't been sold to someone with a penchant for breaking bones. Maybe just tears. Kurt knew he could produce very attractive tears, and wished fervently that this large nobleman preferred tears to bloodletting.

He was carried into a large stone building. The door was narrow, so it couldn't be the main entrance. Down three flights of stairs and into a dungeon type area. Down a hall and past several torches set into brackets on the walls. The strength of his owner was impressive, as he never slowed down, and he never felt his body droop in the strong, massive arms.

Eventually they reached a large wooden door with guards standing on either side. At a motion of the shrouded head, they both moved in tandem to open the door, bowing their heads as the duo moved past and into the space. He was set on his feet, then at the pressure of a gloved hand on his shoulder, went to his knees, eyes on the clean swept stone floor beneath him.

"There's a pot in the corner for you to relieve yourself. Do so now, but don't gain your feet. When you're finished, return, and we'll get on with today's plans."

Kurt followed the pointed direction to the correct corner of the room, avoiding looking at the wicked looking furnishings of the space. Leather covered wood, chains and ropes neatly coiled and draped here and there, the walls adorned with various whips and paddles, the occasional blade. He made it to the basin in the corner, leaning up on his knees to aim his urine, making sure not to make a mess. Once he was finished, he returned to his hands and knees and crawled back to where he could see large boots, though the draping fabric was missing. Those boots came closer, and he felt a length of soft fabric being wrapped over his eyes and tied behind his head. Without the sense of sight, he felt ever so much more vulnerable and was newly reminded that this particular role wasn't on a stage, but was very much real and his performance would decide his fate. He held back a whimper as his body was lifted, seemingly without effort, and situated over what felt like a padded workbench, and his feet were secured to the legs, spread wide, and his hands were pulled down to meet them, and secured as well. Everything seemed heightened without the benefit of sight, even just enough to see where his owner was at the moment, so when he felt rough hands on his skin, now free of the leather gloves, he was shocked into making a small noise.

"Oh, so your vocal chords aren't cut, then. I wondered." The hands moved from his lower back and down over his ass, sliding slowly, the calloused skin chafing on the smooth, unmarred skin of his ass as they moved down, spreading his cheeks wide apart. "Most of the time I'll expect silence from you, but on occasion, I'll allow you to be vocal. Today is one of those days. No words, but you won't incur any extra punishment for screaming out if the pain becomes too much. Nod if you understand." Kurt nodded, feeling ever more nervous. He disliked pain, but he'd been tossed around by the boys in his home village enough that he hoped he'd be able to endure this. No, he would endure this. His future happiness depended on it. He braced himself, but couldn't hold in a shout when the end of a crop came down on the most tender parts of him, just between his ass cheeks. The small smacks rained down from the top of his crack, all the way to just behind his balls where they were hanging below him. Nervousness made him still, as he didn't want to direct the pain any closer to his most sensitive parts. He counted the blows, hoping it would help keep his mind from dwelling on the pain. At forty, they stopped, and he could hear boot clad feet walking around so they were below his head. He could hear something being set down, and a swish through the air as the next tool was brought down, this time against his back. A dozen sharp points of contact, as the individual knots at the ends of the whip all struck across his exposed flesh. Suddenly the deep voice pulled him from his counting, bringing him back to the place where pain was real and slavery was life, not pretend.

"Your should be proud, Mutt. Your skin colors very well under my whip. Perhaps one day I'll whip you in front of a looking glass so you might see the way your skin responds to me. Until then you can just feel it. I changed my mind. I want you screaming. And if you do that for me, we can avoid using the other whip, the one with blades at the end. I'd hate to mar this perfect back. And then if you please me, I'll let you suck me after I fuck your talented little asshole, hmmm? Now. Go."

The whip suddenly fell harder, and from closer to him. He couldn't have held in the screams that left him if he'd tried. He wanted to keep count, but the overwhelming fire spreading across his skin kept his focus as he bellowed out high pitched yells and shuddering whimpers. After a while, the whip moved down so it was laving across his ass and thighs, then on down to his legs, eventually even coming down to flay against the soles of his feet. Back up it went, the only time it slowed was when a rough hand would move between his thighs to grope his dick, stroking it to keep it hard during the whole session. Occasionally he'd feel those fingers grip and knead at his balls before slipping back to press against his sore, abused asshole. Then the hand would be gone and the pain would intensify against his back, then his shoulders. He cried out, concentrating on making noise to avoid the other promised whip.

After some unnameable time, the blows stopped, but Kurt couldn't bring himself to stop whimpering and moaning. It felt like his whole body was on fire, and the smallest touch would set him aflame. His feet were loosened in their bonds, just enough to allow them to be shoved further apart, then he felt lubricated fingers pressing against his anus. He sighed and felt the tears falling from his eyes, only to be absorbed by the blindfold. At least he wasn't going to take him dry, and that was certainly something to be thankful for. He felt the burning stretch, but it was so familiar that his body seemed to accommodate him without any conscious effort on Kurt's part. His owner soon had three fingers pistoning in and out of his hole, spreading lubrication before being pulled away roughly. Kurt thought to brace himself, but didn't have the strength to do so instead just hung there over the bench as he felt himself being penetrated from behind, the coarse, hard material of the man's clothes rubbing into abused flesh of his ass and thighs as he thrust in and out. It felt like he was purposely aiming away from Kurt's prostate with his thrusts, which Kurt was grateful for, as he felt so out of control anyway. He couldn't even hear his own pathetic moaning anymore, he was so lost to the sensation of leather against his ass, and pain tingling all along the nerves of his punished skin. Kurt didn't know how long he was thrusting, but after what could have been five minutes, but could have been five hours, his owner became more rough and irregular in his thrusts, finally coming into Kurt's ass. He pulled out carefully, and Kurt wondered why, until he felt a plug being inserted into his anus to hold the cum inside him. "That'll keep you lubed for next time." Came a gruff mutter from behind him. He could feel his restraints being removed entirely and his body being lifted and carried to a soft surface. He was placed face down in the center of what he felt to be a bed of some sort. He was confused, as it was much finer quality than he'd ever been allowed to sleep on.

His confusion departed when he was shifted and could feel his new owner arranging himself in the bed with him, so that Kurt was apparently lying on his stomach face down between his legs. It was very similar to the coach ride, but this time the cock being pressed to his lips smelled of soap, which he was grateful for, as it had just recently been buried in his ass. He moaned against it the soft penis was pressed between his lips again. He felt such deja vu, but opened quickly, swallowing down over the tender flesh.

"You'll make me hard and then make me come, Mutt, and then you'll be allowed rest." Kurt bit back a whimper, but leaned forward until his nose met the hair covered flesh of his owner's pubic bone. He was much smaller when soft, but the sooner he was full and heavy in Kurt's mouth, the sooner he would come, and Kurt could sleep. So he did his very best, swirling his tongue and pulling back to mouth at his balls, being pulled back up and onto the still half soft cock. He ended up just gently suckling it for a good twenty minutes before he was able to bring the exhausted penis to full erection. His jaw was sore, his mouth dripping saliva, and his neck quite pained, but he kept at it until suddenly his face was pulled back and he could feel long spurts of sperm coating his face and chin, painting his lips and cheeks. When his owner was finished, he could feel the thick liquid being spread over his face and rubbed in. He was then directed back down and over the once again softened cock to pull it into his mouth. "Alright. Well done. Now sleep, slave. But don't let that cock slip past your lips, even in slumber, or there will be punishment later." Kurt was just nodding off, mouth comfortingly full of cock when he felt a soft sheet being pulled over his back and legs. He hummed a little, and felt a soft caress on his hair that he was sure he must've made up in his mind, but it was too much to think about, and he was soon asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Good Morning

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

 

Sir David felt fuzzy, and stilled himself and tried to place what had woken him prematurely. There was no undue noise, especially so far underneath the keep as they were, he could see that he'd fallen asleep in the dungeon. He was suddenly brought to full consciousness by the soft wet sensation on his dick. He glanced down, taking in the slave currently draped over one of his legs, it's mouth pulling tenderly on David's half hard cock. He tilted his head to see better, realizing that the blindfold had slipped off at some point, but the slave appeared to be sleeping soundly, breathing steadily through it's nose against David's groin, seemingly unaware of the movement of his lips and tongue. Sir David couldn't help but smile at the sight the toy made.

His dick was becoming uncomfortable with the positioning as it hardened fully. He gently pulled the new pet off of his cock, face softening at the small sound of protest that it emitted. He pulled at it by the shoulders, rearranging it so that the slim thing was on it's back next to him on the mattress. He knew that it would be in a panic when it realized that it had lost his cock, and so determined to wake his pet up with another sensation. He climbed from the bed to find the pot of cream he'd used the night before when he'd fucked his pet. He gently placed a pillow below Mutt's hips and softly pulled the plug out of his backside. He added more lubrication to his fingers, using it and what remained of his come to prepare the toy for his dick.

Mutt moaned and whimpered at the sensation, and it's cock started to fill. David noted that it was quite a pretty cock, all pale skin and flushed pink and red just at the tip. He leaned down and gave a small lick to the head, unable to help himself. It looked quite appealing. He leaned up and replaced his fingers with his cock, pulling slim but firm legs up and over his shoulders, being careful not to wake Mutt too early. He wanted to give him a true welcome home awakening, and so he used his slick fist to grip onto the pretty cock between their bellies. His thrusts were slow and steady, and he marveled at how deeply Mutt was asleep that he was able to sleep through so much.

Those soft lips that had proved such a welcoming haven for his cock suddenly looked far too tempting. He held off for a moment, before realizing that he owned this creature, and had every right to use every bit of him. His father might not have approved of kissing a slave, but that old bastard was long gone, so Sir David shamelessly leaned forward, bending the slave in half and bringing his mouth down to taste those spread, plump, pink lips. They tasted musky of come, and vaguely of sleep, but his own did as well, so he was unbothered by it. He ran his tongue inside, enjoying the feel of teeth and tongue, realizing just how much he'd missed kissing in the years since he'd been cursed. He sucked a firm lip between his own, gnawing gently and laving with his tongue. His thrusts grew marginally faster as he slid his free hand up behind Mutt's neck, leaning his weight on the forearm while his other fist was still occupied with pumping slowly over his slave's pretty cock.

Enough, he decided. He wanted cooperation and he wanted it now. He gripped tighter around the penis in his grasp, pulling his own almost all the way out of Mutt's ass, then pushing in roughly, moaning into it's mouth and pulling away to bite down harshly on it's collarbone, surely leaving marks, but not breaking the skin.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

When Kurt became aware of his surroundings, it was to realize he was being thoroughly fucked in his ass, and his mouth felt abused, but his whole body felt surrounded. Warm musk and male flesh were all around him. It took him a moment to realize that his blindfold was missing. He was nervous to look around him, but was still so close to sleep that he couldn't quite censor himself. He felt a particularly swift pull on his hard cock and had to tightly pull his breath in in an attempt to control the impulse to come. It was tightly ingrained into the slaves that they were never to come, unless instructed. There was a sudden pain on his collarbones as his owner bit down there, and the sensitive nerve endings were aflame. The combined sensations of being penetrated, having his cock stroked, and being sucked and bitten at on his neck and shoulders were intense, but added to that was the constant scratching rub of his raw back against the bedding, and the abrasion of his owner's body hair against his legs where they were pulled up to his chest. He wasn't sure he'd be able to hold himself still and content much longer. He wasn't sure what would happen. Would he explode like his Master did, with fluid coming out? He didn't know, had never seen a slave orgasm, and had certainly never experienced it himself. Another hard thrust brought Kurt out of his contemplation, and a wail left him, and his hands scrabbled on the blanket beneath him and his eyes slammed shut as his breath shuddered. Just as he was sure he was about to earn a punishment by losing control, that low scratchy voice was rumbling by his ear, ordering him to come, and so he did.

His vision went white behind his eyelids, red spots appearing, and he could feel every nerve ending in his body aflame, from his toes and down to his center, from his fingers, and to the tips of his ears, every bit of him was alive, like he'd been hit by a strike of lightening. It lasted for a long stretch of time, and eventually he came back to himself, finding that his legs had been pulled down and situated around his Master's hips.

His Master, who was still rocking back and forth shallowly inside him, very much still erect, but watching Kurt's features clear from the sheer bliss of a moment before. "Good pet. That was very good." Kurt glanced up without thought and caught his first glimpse of his owner's features. He gasped at the golden tone of his sharp eyes, the full cheeks covered in a beard, all but the thick scars that gnarled from his forehead and down across his whole face, marring his features with the pink twisted flesh that refused to sprout hair. Those eyes watched him, as if waiting for a reaction.

Kurt steeled himself and lowered his eyes again, murmuring a quiet "Thank you, Master". The sound seemed to bring his owner back to himself, as his thrusting was renewed, but it took fewer than a dozen thrusts before he was groaning and burying his face into Kurt's neck as he came.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bath Time

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

Kurt wasn't sure what to do, so he lie there as still as possible as his owner recovered from his own orgasm. Eventually the large frame shifted up and off of him, moving slowly and carefully, his legs seeming unsteady beneath him. He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down on Kurt, who kept his eyes on the opposite wall meekly, keeping as still as possible under his owner's perusal. After a few minutes of this searching look, his owner turned towards the door, re-fastening the pants he still wore, but not bothering to fetch the shirt he'd left near the leather covered bench the night before.

 

"Follow. On your knees, Mutt." was tossed over his shoulder, and Kurt scrambled to obey, hitting the rough stone and following his owner into the hall and down for an undetermined length of time, and down another flight of stairs, which he'd hand to turn and scoot down backwards on his knees awkwardly, but had kept to his orders.

Eventually they reached another doorway that his owner held open for him as he scrabbled inside on his now raw hands and knees. He could hear a trickling sound of water, and the air was humid here, in a way it hadn't been in the dungeon room. He glanced forward and stopped his progress when he saw that he was a few feet from a small pond that seemed to sprout from the very ground, carved from the stone that the estate was built upon. Kurt wondered what this place was doing so far below the keep, but kept silent, with his eyes on the ground.

"This is a natural spring. Hot water brought forth from the earth. Much easier than having the servants prepare a bath for a slave, and you are quite filthy, so you and I will wash in this water before you're taken to your new place in my chambers. Understood?"

Kurt nodded at the floor, not bringing his eyes up.

"I've got some questions for you, Mutt. You have my permission to answer if you are able. Are you able to speak?"

"Yes, Master." Kurt was careful not to say too many words, or to fidget under his owner's scrutiny.

"Well, now that you've been welcomed to the estate, there's some information you'd benefit from. My name is Sir David, and one day I stand to inherit the crown if certain things come to fruition. I am master of this estate, and am Supreme Lord as far as you are concerned."

Kurt felt those strong arms that were becoming familiar lifting him from his spot on the ground. He scrambled to keep his balance, but was calmed by a murmured hushing noise from above him. He held tight to his own upper arms as his owner stepped into the water, taking Kurt with him. He must have finished disrobing while he spoke before, but Kurt had been so distracted by the words that he hadn't noticed. There was a ledge on the towards one side, and Master deposited him on it, moving back to the edge to find a bar of soap. Kurt glanced up at his owner and saw him using a small piece of towel to gather suds from the soap. He looked back down, his face a mask of humility and spoke quietly. "Master may I as a question?"

"Hmmm? I suppose."

"May I wash you?" Kurt felt himself cringe from the forwardness of the question, but even now he wouldn't have taken it back. Now that his owner was without clothes, Kurt had glimpsed the broadness of his shoulders, the sheer mass of his arms and waist, and the soft layer of flesh over his muscles. There was hair seeming to cover him everywhere, but Kurt wanted desperately to have his hands on him, even if only with a cloth. He waited, and could almost hear his Master thinking it over.

"Very presumptuous, Mutt. I don't know how I feel about that. Look at me." Kurt glanced up at him, moving his eyes so they were locked on Sir David's forehead. "No. Look at all of me. Take a good look."

Kurt eagerly looked him over, gathering in details of his form, lingering on his wide shoulders and thick arms. His mouth began to water in earnest, and he had to swallow or risk it spilling down his chin.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Sir David watched as his new toy was allowed to look his fill. He found himself in shock, and suddenly very very interested in what was causing that swallowing. Nervousness? Fear? Desire? Gods, he hoped it was the latter. It had been so long since anyone or anything found him attractive, and fucking scared little shits got old quickly. The pet had been willing, even eager, enough last night and this morning, but he hadn't had a chance to really look at his new owner yet at that point.

He noticed the gold and blue eyes growing wide as they focused on his arms and shoulders. He flexed his muscles, wanting to see what reaction he'd get. The eyes grew impossibly round and he noted how Mutt's nipples had hardened, and wondered at the state of his cock beneath the water. Usually every morning he'd use one of the house slaves if he didn't have a pleasure slave around, then in the evening, if he wasn't too taxed, he'd do the same. It had been a very long time since he'd felt this kind of interest in a single being, slave or human. Ever since he'd seen this creature led out and put on display the day before, he'd had an almost constant erection, and all for this slave boy. He tilted his head as he regarded it, all pale skin and flushed cheeks. He wondered at the state of it's back after last night's welcome home beating. Thinking about it, he felt his own cock harden further, enjoying the memory of how this slight little thing had stayed hard for him as he abused that tender flesh, reddening it so prettily.

"Come." It was harsh, and quite obviously an order.

Kurt came to his feet, the water hitting him at his waist as he crossed to stand in front of Sir David, keeping his eyes lowered in respect.

"Turn. I'll wash you first. I must know the status of your back, as I plan on keeping you sore and used for the time being. Whipped flesh is more sensitive to the touch, and I want you to feel me always. Now step forward onto the ledge, so I might clean you between your legs, Mutt." He used the soapy cloth to wash every bit of the toy's body, especially the area around it's anus, and the tracks of cum that had started to dry as they trailed down it's thighs from it's hole. "Answer honestly and quickly, Mutt. Simple answers are best. Understood?" He stilled his hands, waiting until he had a nod. He washed down each of it's legs, noting each flinch as he hit a particularly sore spot, and each shiver as he found ticklish points. "Did you have a name before you came to belong to me?"

"Kurt, Sir."

"Kurt? Tis an odd name. Do you know why your owner named you thus?"He turned Mutt towards him, washing his chest and belly.

"Twas my parents, Sir. My Grandfather's name was Kurt and my Mother missed him."

David stopped washing altogether at the mention of parents. Typically, slaves were born as such, and were removed from their homes at quite a young age, and would have no memory of they're mother or father. "You were born a free man?" Shock tinged his words.

"Yes, Sir."

"How did you then come to be a slave, Mutt?" He watched closely and was oddly shaken when he saw tears leaking down it's cheeks. A small sniff came, and then he could see it stiffening it's neck, could almost hear it's resolve hardening. What a remarkable little creature.

"My Mother died in childbed with my younger brother, and we lost them both, and my Father couldn't survive the heartbreak of losing them. My Father's family said it was a curse, or God's will, and refused me shelter, but sent me to the training houses."

"And the tears? Are they for your Mother or for yourself?" He reached down to grip Mutt's chin, lifting it so he could see into his eyes, his hands wiping suds onto the skin he touched. "Do you weep for your lost family or your lost future?"

Kurt couldn't help but get lost in the deep golden green of Sir David's eyes, and answered him simply. "I weep for broken hearts, Sir. My fate is what it is, and there's no changing it here and now. Perhaps one day once I've reached my tenure though, my fate might change."

"Oh? And what changes would you make to your future? What would you do with freedom, pet?" He used the cloth to start wiping at Mutt's neck and shoulders, keeping his face tilted up, the better to read his expressions.

"I would like to perform one day, but what I wish from freedom, Sir, is to be free."

David could see the green and brown and yellow bits in Mutt's eyes grow brighter as they traced the gouges in his face. He wondered if Mutt even realized what he was doing. "Well, before that happens, you have to be set free, and for that, you must survive your time here well. Misbehaving and attempting to run away add years to your indenture, so nothing is certain. Lift your arms."

Mutt's arms go up, and David moves to wash them, and the sensitive skin beneath them. Perhaps he'll use the crop on him here, he thinks. But then he'd have to be careful about his ribs, so maybe not the crop. Aaahh... He has a cat o' nine made of burlap rather than leather that might be just right for that. He'd hate to accidentally break something irreparable on this slave and have to start over, especially since he sees so much potential in this one. He finishes up washing the slave and it's time to rinse it off. "Take a deep breath, Mutt, then kneel to rinse, but don't stand up. I'll lift you up when it's time."

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Kurt's eyes get wide at this pronouncement, but he does as he's told, pulling in a deep breath, but is still surprised when Sir David's hand comes up to pinch his nose shut, also wrapping over his mouth and guiding him down until he's below the surface of the water, resting on his knees. Kurt can feel the movement of the water as it naturally moves from where it enters on one side of the cave/room and moves to the water's exit on the other side, and after a few moments he's sure that he's clean, but Sir David is still holding him under.

Soon his chest starts to hurt from lack of air, and he can't control his body's natural urge to surface, but still his owner holds him immobile under the water. Kurt's entire body feels like it's on fire, and his throat seems about to explode, and he starts to panic.

Finally, when he's sure he's about to pass out from lack of air, he's pulled free and his mouth and nose are released. Sir David pulls him to his chest as he gasps and shudders against him. Kurt's hands come up to grip at his waist, pulling himself tight to his Master, holding on as if for dear life. "Thank you, Sir." are the words that leave his lips.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

"For what, pet?" David is shocked, not only by Mutt's physical reaction of clinging to him, but also the pronouncement.

"For allowing me to live, Sir. Thank you, Sir." It was panted against the hair on his chest. Mutt was still pulling in large lungfuls of air, pulling unconsciously with his hands, trying to get closer to his owner. "I know that Master has the right to end my life, and I'm very grateful that you haven't chosen to do so, Sir."

"Would you still be so grateful if you knew that I still have plans to take you back to my dungeon and abuse this pretty skin some more this day, and for every day that follows? Or would you wish to end your own life like your Father obviously did?" David can feel Mutt stiffen against him, but tells himself that he should not feel any guilt. Mutt is a slave, and so is below insult. He waits for it's answer, though.

"Sir, I... Well, I was left heartbroken after my Father did what he had to, but if I were to do that to myself, it would prove my Aunt correct, and I couldn't allow that. Not if I can help it. And I belong to you, so if Master wants to beat me then I have no place to refuse."

David tilted his head to the side, wonderingly. He mentally shrugged, and decided to leave the confusion for a later time. He sighed and reached for the soap and the cloth, removing Mutt from his person to hand over the cleaning supplies. "Alright, Pet. My turn, wash me."

As Mutt started running the cloth over his chest and shoulders, he watched the movement of it's features. When the cloth came up to wash his admittedly impressive biceps Mutt betrayed himself by allowing a bit of saliva to slide down to his chin. It's chin. No, he couldn't allow himself to start thinking of the slave as a person. Slaves weren't people, they were things. But Mutt had said that he was born a freeman. A freeman with a name. So maybe he was a person, but he was still a slave. His slave.

David looked back up at Mutt's face as he quickly wiped at his chin with the back of one hand, his cheeks turning bright in embarrassment. He felt himself start to grin. Perhaps Mutt was a he, and not an it, but he still belonged to David, and David planned to keep it- No. him- for as long as he could.

As Mutt cleaned down David's legs and to his feet, David wondered if this really could be the slave boy who would end the curse, or if he was getting himself further into the whole mess. Well, soon enough they'd find out, and it would be decided either way.

 

  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Naptime

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

When they arrived back at the dungeon, Sir David looked at the restraints available to him, trying to decide which he would use to hold his slave captive for this particular session, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. He called out for the interrupter to enter, and could immediately smell warm bread, hot cider, and meat. He inhaled deeply, and turned, moving to the table near the fireplace. It was small, just one chair, but there was a ledge on which to situate his slave during mealtimes. He urged his pet up and into position, taking care that it wouldn't fall and hurt itself. He then dismissed the servant who'd brought the food, taking his seat.

The first bite was glorious. He paid well for his chef, and it showed. The lamb melted on his tongue, and he took a swallow of the sharp cider to wash it down. There was a small rumble from the ledge, and he had to bite back a laugh when he realized that the slave's belly had made noise. He broke off bits of his meal, feeding it to the pet intermittently while he ate. He held his cup to it's lips so it could have a drink, not wanting to deal with an ill slave if he suffered malnutrition. When the food was all gone,

David helped Kurt down from the ledge, and directed him over to the Saint Andrew's Cross, securing his limbs, but not reaching for any instruments. He let the hinge on the back of the contraption loose, leaning the cross back at an angle, fetching a sheet from the pallet in the corner to drape over the slave's figure, tucking it in securely. "Sleep, pet. I don't want to make you sick by working you over too soon after your meal, and I'm rather tired myself, so I've decided we'll have a rest first. Just relax."

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Sir David dozed for perhaps an hour before he came awake to the soft sound of whimpering. He walked to where he had Mutt secured, and took a moment to enjoy the view. His legs were spread, and his torso was secured, but his arms had been lifted and bent, so he was holding his own elbows above his head. His face was turned so that his mouth was pressed to his arm, and he was sucking at his muscle there, rooting as would an infant.

David watched him and compared this to how soundly he'd slept with his mouth full earlier, and decided to test his theory. He stepped closer to the pet, and gently detached his mouth from where he had started to give himself a hickey, and pressed two fingers into his mouth. When the pet started sucking hungrily, and the distressed noises stopped, David couldn't help but smile softly at him. He began to rock his fingers in and out, feeling his cock harden at the desperate way the toy seemed to want his fingers to fill his mouth.

He decided to take the opportunity for release that was presented. He looked around and found a small anal plug lying in a pile of implements, and replaced his fingers with it, then moving around the cross to the hinge, slowly lowering it until Mutt was lying tilted backwards, with his head down towards the floor in a gentle slope, pulling off the sheet and discarding it on the bed.

David undid the closure on his pants, withdrawing his stiff penis, and hooking a knee up on the contraption to brace himself. He leaned forward and angled himself just right so that he slid into Mutt's mouth smoothly, sucking in a breath at the lovely suction that the slave applied instinctively. He started to thrust shallowly, not wanting to harm the slave unduly while he was sleeping. As he rocked himself, he noticed that the toy's own prick was starting to stiffen, and as it grew, it drew his attention. David gauged the distance and the angle and decided it was worth a try, so he leaned forward, taking the tip into his mouth, and applying a harder suction than Mutt had, bobbing his head, having to concentrate so that he didn't suffocate the slave.

He was content to rock there back and forth, gently working himself in his slave's warm cavern, as he also paid delicious attention to the pet's own erection, and at one point he pulled off long enough to slick a finger in his spit and pressing into his slave's hole, and reaching in to find it's prostate. It was at this point that he felt a humming moan around his cock and realized that he must have woken his pet with the penetration.

The humming continued as he pumped his finger in and out, in rhythm along with his cock, and his own head bobbing on the toy's cock. It only took moments, it seemed, for David to reach orgasm, and as the slave swallowed down his come, he felt him coming as well. David didn't swallow, though, letting it rest in his mouth as he removed his body, then leaning down to attach his mouth to Mutt's, transferring the come into the slave's mouth, and feeling the shaking of the slim body as he sucked his own spunk off of Sir David's tongue.

"I didn't realize you'd have such trouble sleeping without a gag, human or otherwise, pet. From now on, I'll see that that doesn't happen again." David closed his pants again, tucking himself inside, and moved to settle the cross back into it's upright position. "Are there any other orifices that you are used to having filled while you sleep, pet? You have my permission to answer."

Kurt swallowed reflexively, unused to being asked about his own comfort. He cleared his throat a little around the coating of seed in his mouth and throat. "My arse, Sir."

David had figured as much, but wanted to hear more. He reached for a softer, suede whip. This one was for warming skin, not marking it, and he didn't want any broken bones or skin. "Elaborate, slave. What was kept in your anus? How large was it, and the same for your mouth? Try to ignore the strokes of the whip as you answer." He started laying stripes on the pale skin, starting from his legs, and slowly moving up.

Kurt wanted to cry out at the sting, but had been ordered to ignore the sensation, so he did as commanded and concentrated on replying to the questions put to him. "I was filled nightly with a dildo, Sir, the width of my wrist, and half the length of my forearm, Sir. My mouth had a gag shaped as a penis, the width of your whip handle, and twice the length of my thumb, Sir." He wasn't thinking about the leather striking his skin, and he realized that there was a buzzing warmth coming from his skin, where before, if he thought about the pain, it could consume him. Now he only felt a tingle.

"And do you miss them, Mutt? Your fillers? Which do you prefer, your gag, or my cock? Answer honestly, pet." The strokes moved up, now at the slave's upper thighs and hips, wrapping over his soft dick, and leaving red stripes, but not doing actual harm.

"No, Sir. Sometimes my ass feels empty, Sir, but it's not uncomfortably so. And I prefer your cock, Sir. My gag was cold and hard, and I much prefer your warm flesh, honestly, Sir, and I confess that I did miss it when you ordered me to nap earlier." He hung his head as much as he was able in his position, feeling shamed by the confession. He didn't want to require more than his Master was willing to give him, but he had asked for honesty.

Sir David was gratified by the slave's answer, warming at the thought that he wouldn't require the tempering that David had needed with the others, and already was showing so much progress. He moved the whip higher, now using it to heighten the nerves in the pet's stomach and chest area. "Does it arouse you to have me inside your mouth as you sleep? Would you prefer to have your arse filled as you rest?"

Kurt was determined to obey, and not react to the gentle punishment of his flesh, but it was like a slow burn working it's way up his body. He took a deep breath, but that only served to bring his chest ever closer to the whip. He lowered his eyes, letting them shut as he spoke, too embarrassed to look at his owner. "Yes, Sir. It arouses me when your cock sleeps in my mouth. And I do feel restless with my ass empty, Sir, and if Sir wishes it, this slave would prefer to be filled during sleeping times."

David was becoming aroused again at the slave's words, also watching the way his skin turned from pink to red under his ministrations. He could see that it was having a similar effect on the pet, as his cock slowly filled. David reached forward to stroke him there, pulling upward, and holding him tightly. He let go after a few moments, letting the now fully hard cock bounce on the toy's red stomach, loving the small hiss that the slave couldn't hold in. He stood back, surveying his work and deeming it time to move on.

David reached into a pile, pulling out something that looked like a fencing mask, and pressed it onto Kurt's face, then standing back and using the suede whip to color Kurt's exposed arms and underarms. "Silence, pet. Now I just want you to imagine that the whip is my hands and mouth gently touching your skin. Let it stroke you, but don't make a sound."

David worked the pet over, coloring his arms, and moving back down his figure, covering him until every inch was blooming red and he could hear puffing breaths coming from inside the mask. The mask was only really there for the toy's protection, as his arms were wrapped over his face,but David had to admit that he liked the image presented, of the nude, abused body, displayed but without a face, taking the person out of it.

David leaned forward, pressing his lips to the metal grating over where Mutt's ear would be. "Now I'm going to switch implements, pet. This one will be more like the whip I used on your back yesterday, only this time, I don't want you to cry out in pain. I want you to let the sensation of touch and tingling wash over you. I want you to let it move you from this place an up into the next plane. If you allow it, the physical pain will transport you, and you will feel a sort of pleasure and peace that you have only dreamed of. I want you to see that place, pet. Now, I want you to close your eyes, and let yourself feel this, let me send you to that place. Nod if you understand."

Kurt nodded, not entirely understanding what his owner meant, but wanting to please him, and turning over his words in his head. He felt something being wrapped around his hips and secured, and his cock and balls being tucked inside a hard shell before he heard the leather singing through the air and then felt the strike of it on his skin. He wanted to concentrate on it, and count them out in his mind like he normally would, but more than that, he wanted to find this mystical place that Sir David spoke of, and so he forced himself to think of the way his flesh felt just under the skin that was burning.

David watched the form in front ofhim tighten and tense with each stroke, and could tell that the slave was concentrating too hard, and would have trouble finding it, and after about forty strokes, he lost his patience, dropping his whip and reaching forward and unhooking the protection he'd wrapped over Mutt's hips and genitals, unhooking his legs and arms, pulling off the mask, and dragging the slim, slack body with him over to the bed. He spread his legs where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Mutt up to face him and yanking his legs out to hook over his own, his ass hanging down between David's knees.

David pulled Mutt's face up with one hand. "You're thinking too hard. Just feel, pet. Let go. Just let go." He brought his hand up, and then struck down onto Mutt's exposed backside, hard. He used one arm to hold the slave up, fingers tangled in his hair and kissing him hard, while the other hand spanked him hard, bringing them closer together, and Mutt's sensitive front rubbing against the rough fabric of David's clothes.

Kurt could feel the pain and discomfort level rising, and couldn't figure out what his owner wanted of him, but then all he could taste was Sir David, and all he could feel was Sir David, and he was getting closer and closer to something, and Kurt was terrified. He tried to push it off, but then Sir David pulled away from his mouth and moved to his neck, and as he continued to spank his ass with extreme force, he bit down onto Kurt's collarbones, and everything seemed to go stark white, like when he'd orgasmed that morning for the first time, only this time it was different. He could feel each stroke of his owner's hand, and the prick of his teeth on his neck, and each bit of contact only served to take him higher, and he was soon sobbing and clinging to Sir David, completely lost to reality.

When Kurt came back down to earth, it was to realize he was lying on his back on the bed and Sir David was thrusting gently in his ass, moving excruciatingly slowly as he moved their bodies together, his hand a soft touch on Kurt's cock. There was no way for Kurt to know for just how long they'd been in this state, but he could feel the abused flesh of his backside rubbing on the bedding, while his abused front rubbed against the fur covered expanse of his owner, and he couldn't control the moans that left him.

When David realized that his pet was back in his mind, he started thrusting with purpose, determined to see them both to completion again. He leaned forward, knowing that his hideous body hair had to be working on the toy's tender skin, but at the way he was moaning, it couldn't be entirely bad. When he'd seen Mutt finally fly out and into ecstasy earlier, he'd gentled his strokes, but worked him through until his arm had started to lose strength. Then he'd stretched the slave, and mounted him, patiently waiting until he'd come to himself again.

Now they were attached, down below, and also at their mouths. Kurt couldn't get enough of his Master's mouth and body. His hands lifted of their own volition to stroke and grip onto the strong body surrounding him, wanting to touch everywhere, and incredibly turned on by the way his body hair seemed to be everywhere, and the way it was scratching at his ultra sensitive skin.

In the end it was the memory of how his Master had taken him up and to that lovely, blissful place, combined with a soft "You may come, pet." that sent him over the edge, and Kurt came between them. He was vague and limp as his Master finished up, using him until he came himself, and then wiping them both with a cloth and using a large plug inside Kurt's backside before arranging them much like he had the night before, with Kurt lying at his hip, his mouth full of Sir David's soft cock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Master Suite

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

 

When David felt the pet nodding off against his hip, he allowed his fingers to drift through the thick, dark hair. He didn't know what had come over him. He'd never been so familiar with a slave before, but this one seemed different somehow. Mutt, or rather, Kurt, was so giving, and honest, and sweet tempered. David found himself wanting to give the little imp pleasure, even when the pet himself admitted that he neither expected it, or felt it was deserved him, as a pleasure slave.

David was used to having slaves who either fought him, or were mindless voids inside human flesh. This Kurt/Mutt creature was very different from those toys. He was a pure joy to watch as he fell apart, and he followed commands so readily and with such trust. David felt as though Kurt may have been made especially for him, but tried to brush off the feeling as something fanciful. Such was nonsense, and it would get him no closer to the end of his own captivity inside this body. He needed to concentrate on that, and on finding out the true meaning of the prophecy that the witch had given when she'd cursed him all those years ago.

Just then he felt a small snuffle as his pet nuzzled in further to him, shifting so his shoulder was pressed more securely to his Master's thigh, and David couldn't deny a prickle of emotion that welled in his sinuses, though he clenched down on it before it became tears.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

After the first few days of being only in each others company, staying close to the dungeon and the baths, David decided that it was time for them to move up to his suite of rooms in the tower, so he wrapped his pet in a sheet, covering him head to toe with fabric, not wanting him to be exposed to the staff of the castle, wanting to keep that for himself, and carried him in his arms, deciding that it was the safest way to move him.

Once they arrived, several flights upwards and an entire wing away, he lay the pet on his own massive bed, commanding him to 'stay', so that he might command his house servants to bring a meal, and also to fill the large tub in the adjoining space with hot water. There was a pulley system to bring the water, so that the maids and footmen wouldn't have to march all the distance up the steps, but it still took time to fill and clear the water.

David sat on the edge of the bed, slipping the sheet down to expose Mutt's face for the first time since the move, laughing when he realized the pet was asleep inside his covering, his own thumb in his mouth as he breathed deep and slow. David brushed his fingers over the fair cheek that was so flushed form being tucked inside the cloth for so long, but rather than waking him, he curled himself up on the bed next to his bed, content to watch him for a moment while they waited for the meal to arrive, not noticing quite how tired he was, and falling into a restful sleep next to his pet, with an arm wrapped over his waist, pulling Kurt-no, Mutt's back into his chest.

When David awoke, it was to a movement at the foot of the bed, and it took him a moment to realize that it was his personal maid, motioning to him quietly that the food had been delivered on the table. Once his eyes had cleared of the blur of sleep, he nodded to her, motioning that she should leave. He moved to shift, but realized that his hand was occupied, and he looked down at the place where Kurt/Mutt was lying in his arms, and saw that his hand had been drawn up from where he'd rested it at his pet's waist and was now cupped between two soft, fair hands, his thumb now in Kurt's suckling mouth, his other fingers tangled with the slave's slim ones. He smiled softly, brushing at the pet's hair with his nose and moving down so his mouth was just below Kurt's ear, mouthing at the flesh where his jaw met his neck.

Kurt felt his body shake with a shudder, and let out a helpless moan around what he'd been sucking on. His eyes fluttered open, and he realized the position he was in, but he didn't dare move without permission. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten into this position, but if his Master had put him there, then there he would stay.

David felt Kurt stiffen in his arms, then relax again, and then there was the soft brush of his fingers brushing over David's hand where he was still holding it. He seemed reluctant to move, so David did it for him, pulling his hand away, and whispering in his ear. "It's time to get up, pet. Supper's arrived, and I want to show you around the rooms before my nightly bath, as you'll be here without me for quite some bit of your days, as I've been neglecting my duties in the keep.

Kurt listened, calm and relaxed here, then nodded when his Master nudged him. He followed him out of the bed, though instead of standing from it like Sir David did, he clambered to his knees, following him to the table area in a crawl. He climbed onto the pillow that Master motioned him to, settling in and only looking up when a finger touched below his chin. He then accepted the bites that his owner fed him, eating delicately from those strong fingers, laying a timid kiss to a fingertip when the hand lingered at his lips. He caught himself, glancing up at Master's face quickly, suddenly fearful that he'd made a mistake, and noted the drawn forehead, but realized that it wasn't from anger, and his knotted stomach eased. He kept his lips to himself through the rest of the meal, eating the bits he was fed, but not looking up again.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

David walked through his rooms, moving quickly enough, but making sure that the pet could keep up from his position on his knees, giving direction as to which areas he was welcome in and which he needed to stay removed from, and showing him to the bathing area, which also held the area for relieving oneself. He allowed his pet to use this, then showed him also the area and tools for cleaning himself in preparation for his Master.

Once the tour was complete, David moved to the large bath, the steaming water drawing his attention. He dipped in a finger, then his hand, gauging the temperature to make sure it had cooled sufficiently. It was perfect, and he quickly divested himself of his garments, climbing into the tub. Kurt had positioned himself in the corner, face turned down passively, and David called out to him. "Pet, come here." When Kurt was on his knees next to the copper tub, David reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Climb carefully into the water, Pet. Just between my legs here, Good."

Kurt settled in, allowing his body to be shifted by his owner's hands, leaning back when he was pulled, and reveling in the feel of the soft yet scratchy hair of Sir David's skin against the soft hairless surface of his own flesh.

David reached for a bar of soap, lather and bubbles covering his hands as he lowered them to Kurt's chest, beginning at his shoulders and working his way down, over collarbones, then meeting at his neck, massaging gently, then moving down further, fingers brushing, then closing over stiff nipples, massaging them, squeezing and pulling at the peaks.

He could tell that Kurt was trying to hold his sounds in, and so leaned forward, letting his breath flow over the bare skin of his neck, blowing at the bubbles there. "You can make noise, Pet. Let the sounds flow from you." Kurt moaned loudly, dragging in a shuddering breath as David's hands continued their ministrations on his chest, leaning his head back onto David's shoulder. "That's right, pet. Let me hear how much you love having my hands on you. Beg me for it. Ask me to touch you right where you want them, sweet boy. I want to hear your voice."

Kurt had to concentrate on the orders, his thoughts wanting to scatter like so many leaves in the fall. "P-pl-please, Master... Please touch me... Please.. want your hands on me..."

David reveled in the sounds, a lower pitch than the pet usually spoke. "But where, Pet? Where do you want your Master's hands?" His nose pressed to the damp tendrils of hair that were sticking to Kurt's forehead.

"Anywhere." His head shook a little against David's shoulder. "Anywhere Master wants to touch his slave. Just want it. Want anything. Pain, or pleasure, whatever Master wants for me, I want it. Please, Sir." He was panting, another moan wrenched from him as he felt David's hands moving down, slipping over the muscles of his stomach.

"Like this, slave?" He moved his hands from the lean muscles of Kurt's stomach, sliding down further to rub at the seam where his thigh met his hip, pressing his fingers in, and working the muscle as it flexed beneath the skin. "Do you want my hands here, or somewhere else? Do you want them on your cock, or on your ass? Or somewhere else? I could always move back to here..." One of his hands moved back up to Kurt's nipples, tweaking them in turn, scratching at the skin between them with his short nails.

"Anywhere, Sir. Please... Please, Sir..." Kurt was nearly insensate with want, writhing there in David's arms. "Wherever Master wants, Pet just wants Master happy."

David had had enough of the teasing, and pulled his hands up to rinse the lather still remaining on Kurt's shoulders, flipping him so they were facing each other, pulling him in for a hard kiss, all suction and heat and too much spit. His hands scrabbled for the plug that he'd left inside Kurt earlier, pulling it out and blessing the fates for the slickness he found remaining there, yanking Kurt's knees to either side of his hips, and thrusting up inside him, heedless of the water sloshing over the sides of the tub. "Ride me, Pet."

When Kurt started to move tentatively, David bit down hard on his neck, letting out a harsh growl. "Harder, slave. Ride me harder." Then Kurt was slamming up and down, letting out short, sharp wails on each stroke. It was too much, too hot, too wet, too dry, too much friction, and not enough, and then Kurt was coming, barely able to wait long enough for the "Yes, Pet. Go ahead." just holding out long enough for permission, continuing to pound himself down, wanting to keep his Master inside himself forever. Finally there was a heavy groan and huge hands were bruising his hips, holding him down and in as Sir David came hard.

They lay panting against each other for long minutes until they both realized that the water had cooled. David moved Kurt like a rag doll, as he was so limp from orgasm, cleaning them both and lifting them from the tub, wiping them dry and moving to the bed. When Kurt would have moved to the foot of the bed into position at David's crotch, he was surprised by the way David shook his head, and pulled him up onto the pillows, arranging them as they had been during their short nap, this time guiding his own thumb to Kurt's mouth to nurse on as he slept, and Kurt softly smiled as he felt his Master wrapped around him everywhere, and fell into a deep sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Study

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

They fell into a routine of sorts, after moving into the master suite in the east tower. At dawn, a maid would wake them with a meal, Sir David would feed them both, and then they would move to a room just to the left of the bathing room, where David would arrange Kurt this way, or that way, and then would abrade his flesh as he saw fit. Some days it was the suede cat o'nine, and some days it was a paddle, other days just Sir's hand on Kurt's bare ass, but every day had Kurt counting off his strokes, twice the number of his age, and then he'd be left alone in the suite.

He was allowed to use the few books on the shelf in Master's room, and the meager piles of time fillers left behind in the sitting room by a long ago lady of the castle. Kurt wasn't allowed to walk on two feet without permission, and was strictly forbidden from entering Sir David's study, a room which seemed dark, and smelled musky and dank.

Kurt suddenly found himself with hours each day where he had nothing to do but lie on the rough carpet of the sitting room in front of the fire and watch the flames play shadows on the ceiling.

He eventually made 'friends' with a mouse who lived in the tower, and it would eat the crumbs from the breakfast plate from his fingers, and would crawl up into his hands and nibble at his fingertips, falling asleep on his shoulder in front of the fire. Kurt was glad for the companionship, the mouse reminding him of the animals he'd befriended on his father's estate when he was a child. But he wasn't supposed to think of that time and that place, and yet... he had so many hours, the long, endless hours of waiting, of just making sure he was available to his Master, should he arrive, and yet he never did, not before supper, at least.

Kurt was glad that his Master ate with him, though. He would have breakfast before he left for the day, and then would feed Kurt from his dinner plate before marking him again, then taking him in varying positions, using his body, and bringing Kurt to dizzying planes of ecstasy, then having a bath, sometimes together, and sometimes Kurt would be ordered to bathe after Sir was finished in the water, and then they'd sleep in the massive bed. Kurt thought it odd, but never said anything for fear of having the privilege taken away, but he was never made to sleep in the slave's rightful place on the floor. He was always next to or wrapped up in his Master.

It was one such endlessly long afternoon, and he'd been sitting, playing with the mouse, when he'd accidentally dropped his friend from his shoulder, and off he went, running like a shot for the door of the study. Kurt didn't think before he followed, watching the tiny beast squeeze through the notch on the corner of the door that prevented it from being a complete rectangle of wood.

Kurt reached up to open the handle, shoving the door open and searching on his hands and knees for the creature, sighing when he saw him huddled in a corner, then making a small kissing sound, the small, shaking thing made it's timid way toward him.

Just as he had settled the terrified animal's beating heart, there was a thud from the bedroom and a call "Pet, where are you? Pet?" Then heavy footsteps.

Kurt panicked, finally realizing just where he was in the suite, and setting the mouse down on the floor to hurry to the door, hoping to be out of the room in time, but no, there the Master was, standing in the doorway, his face completely slack with shock and betrayal. "Pet, what are you doing in here? I told you that this place was not for you." Kurt moved to answer, but stopped at a sweeping motion of Sir David's hand. "Silence! You were ordered to remain outside this room, and yet here I find you." He shook his head, disappointment writ all over his features. "I had hoped that I wouldn't have to punish you, Mutt, but it turns out my hopes are as they ever have been, useless and wasted." He turned away, spitting over his shoulder, "Follow, slave." as he marched toward the implement room.

Kurt followed on his knees, feeling like so much of a failure that he'd been unable to follow his Master's simplest of edicts, knowing that whatever Sir David decided to punish him with, he deserved it for so blatantly disregarding his orders. Once in the correct room, Master motioned towards the stocks there, and Kurt lifted himself so that his head and hands could be locked into the wooden implement, his legs attached to the legs, spread wide and leaving his tender parts most vulnerable.

Sir David didn't wait, or warm Kurt's skin as he would have during a normal daily marking, but drew back his whip, a leather beast this time, and let it fly against the soft skin of his backside. Kurt choked back a wail, not quite succeeding, and Sir David rounded the front of the Stocks, his hands full of... oh, a gag. It looked like a bit for a horse, but with a flat piece extending forward that would sit on Kurt's tongue to keep him silent in fear of gagging himself, and Kurt opened wide, allowing it to be strapped around the back of his head.

Then his Master was behind him again, snapping the whip back and bringing it forward against him, over and over, and Kurt determined to keep count, feeling the tears and snot draining from his face as he went up, past fifty, then past a hundred, and his Master just kept going, seemingly merciless in his punishment. At some point the pain became so excruciating that Kurt seemed to lose all time and place, not quite reaching the planes of ecstasy that his Master had taken him to back in the dungeon, but his mind had separated from the pain enough that he no longer felt attached to his body.

David was lost to the heavy strokes of his whip for long minutes, then who knew how long, until suddenly a streak of red pulled his attention, and then a steady drip, and the sight shocked him, and he dropped the whip immediately, only now realizing how much damage he'd done to his Pet in his panicked rage at finding him inside the study.

He watched as that lone stripe welled with redness, the trickle of blood painting down from his shoulder blade, trailing down his back, and David went to his knees. He couldn't believe what he'd done. "Pet?" When no response came, he rounded the wooden contraption, only then remembering that he'd gagged him. He quickly reached up to gently remove it, his panic reaching new levels when Kurt only hung there unresponsive. "Mutt? Pet? Pet? Oh Gods."

He moved back around, releasing the slave's feet, then unhinging the stocks, moving to support his body while putting minimal pressure on his abused back. He laid him out on padded table in the room, face down, and turned his face, patting his cheek softly, desperate for any reaction at all. "Pet! Mutt, you must wake up!" He didn't know what to do, reached for a cloth, wetting it, pressing it to the wound he'd made on his Pet's back, berating himself for the fool he was.

He felt wetness sliding down his cheeks as he felt the helplessness swamp him. He reached forward, grasping the sides of Kurt's face, not noticing or caring when blood smeared across his cheek from David's own hands. He leaned down, pressing soft kiss after soft kiss on that pale face, hoping, nay, praying, for some response, any response. "Pet, please... Kurt..." There was a tremble from the prone body, and David called out again, louder this time, "Kurt! Kurt, wake up, pet. You must wake up for me."

Kurt could hear something, far off, but the buzzing and vibration kept the sound at bay, and he rested in the peaceful darkness as long as he could, until suddenly, the voice was back, only this time it was shouting, and it was his name, and he opened his eyes, part of him expecting to find his Father there, or his Aunt, so when his eyes focused, and he found Sir David, he was shocked, not comprehending the tears and choked off voice until his face was pulled upwards again at that odd angle, and his lips were being kissed roughly, and then the pain rushed him all at once, and he cried out, unable to hold himself together as his whole body shook, a tremble taking over him, wracking his frame with hard shaking.

"Kurt, shhh... it's okay... you're okay..."

"It hurttssss... Master, why does it hurt so much?" And the fat tears fell from his eyes, his frame rocking of it's own volition, the cloth moving from his back and a small trickle of blood renewing where the clot had been disturbed.

Kurt was keening, and David didn't know what to do, but didn't want to leave him in this state either, so he called out sharply, his voice loud enough to call up a servant from the stairwell.

Kurt rocked for a few moments more, but when pressure was replaced on his wounded back in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, everything went black again, only this time in a dead faint.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A letter, a visitor, and a goodbye?

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

 

Kurt had eventually awoken, groggy and numb, face down on his Master's bed. He had timidly asked the maid who was attending him if the Master would be back soon as he realized how late it must be. She murmured that the Master had retreated to the dungeons, and hadn't come back out, and it didn't appear that he would at any time soon.

That had been three days ago. The scar on Kurt's back had healed well, and quickly, under the close care of the servants, with different poultices and ointments spread onto it regularly.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Four days after his punishment, Kurt was wondering if he'd ever see his owner again, and spent countless hours berating himself in his mind for disobeying in such a way that had caused his owner to want to completely disregard him.

He didn't allow himself to weep, but he also didn't allow himself any simple pleasures that he'd come to enjoy during his time in the tower. He refused to play with the mouse, still leaving the plate near to the fire, but refusing to partake of the warmth or companionship himself. He stayed on his knees during the days, in the corner of the bathing room, holding in his urine for as long as he could before he'd budge.

This self imposed punishment went on for another three days before there was a sudden noise at the doorway of the bathing chamber. Kurt refused to turn, centered on his punishment, reveling in the pain in his legs and knees, knowing that the painful stiffness was something that he deserved, for doing what he'd done, for disobeying his owner and displeasing him in such a way. He couldn't bear to think about it, and when he did, he ground his knees harder into the stone, biting back a whimper of pain.

David watched from the doorway as his slave punished himself, tears wanting to flood his eyes as he witnessed the stiff posture, the red line where his wound was healing a stark reminder of how his owner had completely lost control. He let his eyes fall shut for a moment, but then he was moving from the doorway and over to Kurt, reaching down to lift him, carrying him into the bedroom, still not speaking.

He lay Kurt on his back on the bed, going to the table for the ointment the maid had left earlier, returning to rub it onto Kurt's abraded knees. Once treated, he laid the ointment aside and wiped his hands on a cloth.

He turned back to his Pet, finally meeting those stunning blue eyes without flinch. He was so very ashamed of himself, and had quarantined himself, and had resurfaced to receive word that his personal pleasure slave was punishing himself for his Master's absence. He was only eating small amounts, sleeping little or not at all, and not allowing himself any fillers for his time, placing himself into a punishment pose on the hard stone without prompting. It was long past time for that to end, but David only blamed himself, and now he had to wonder how the boy would respond to the news he bore.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

He'd shown up in the early afternoon, outside his normal schedule, because there had been a messenger, bearing a letter in response to a missive he'd sent. When Kurt had told him about his birth as a free man, he'd sent out fifty copies of the same letter, all requests for knowledge of the background details of one Kurt Hummel, and his father Burt, now deceased.

The response he'd received was in the form of an older servant in a wagon, claiming to have a precious cargo. He'd turned over a package wrapped in fabric and tied closed. When David had moved to a private space and unwrapped it, he found a small portrait of a young boy with what must have been his parents.

His jaw had fallen open when he realized that the young boy was his Pet, hair combed and clothes fine. The mother was beautiful, all fine bones and stunning features, while the father had all of Kurt's masculine handsomeness in an older, wider package. There was also a letter enclosed, asking that he study the painting, but to please return it with the servant, as it was the woman's only connection to her young grandson who had once been. He had stewed in the room for hours, knowing that he had to decide whether to be honest and tell the woman that he had Kurt in his possession, or to keep quiet, because no one in his keep had seen Kurt save David's private servants, but had decided to sleep on the decision, just wanting to see Kurt, to feel him and know that the boy still belonged to him, at least right now.

He'd gone up to his private rooms, feeling desperate and possessive, thinking about what might occur should he tell the woman of Kurt's whereabouts. Would she come for him? Would he leave? He walked in, not finding his pet immediately, and so continued into the sitting room, and noticed the open door of his office.

No. His mind went blank. He'd told Mutt not to go into the office. There were too many things- too many memories- of his mother, the cold queen who'd taught him little other than a cold shoulder, of his father, a king who ruled with an iron fist and a heavy wooden staff that he'd used on his son when a whipping boy simply wouldn't do. He followed the soft murmur of Kurt's voice into the study, and the sight of him there, sitting so peacefully on the floor, combined with the rush of cigar smoke scented furnishings, and David was gone. He felt such rage, and everything went red. He only came out of his red haze when it was broken by a trickle of actual red.

Since his servants had come to care for Kurt in his room, he'd been closeted in the dungeons with the painting and the letter. After the first night, he'd written a responding letter and dispatched it with the messenger. It simply stated that if the woman wanted her painting, and her grandson, that she should come and collect them herself. What finally brought him forth from the dungeons was the return of the woman's servant, bearing news that she would arrive in three days time.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

David moved from the side of the bed, moving to the table near the doorway, where he'd deposited the painting upon entering the space. He brought it back, holding it out to Kurt. He watched as the boy's face slipped into a mask of shock.

"Where- How did- I don't-..." Kurt looked up from the painting, tilting his head to the side, and tears coming to his eyes. "Master? I don't understand."

David sat on the foot of the bed, facing Kurt but separated by several feet of blankets. "I sent a letter out when you told me about your birth status. This arrived half a fortnight past, and soon your Grandmother, or a woman who claims to be, will arrive. As I have proven, you are no longer safe here, so if she turns out to be all she says she is, you will be going with her when she leaves this place."

Kurt was shaking his head side to side. "That can't be true. My Aunt said that she was my only living relative. She swore to the debt holders that there was no one else."

David reached forward, laying his hand on the curve of Kurt's foot. "But who knows what may have motivated such a woman, aye? So we shall see. But you should rest and eat, Pet. For soon your freedom comes."

Kurt jolted, eyes locked on Sir David's face. "Wh- freedom? But I don't understand, Sir. Even if this woman is a relation, I belong to you for five years." And then his eyes widened, as though he'd had a sudden thought. He scrambled down off of the bed, falling to his knees near David's legs. He didn't reach out, but his forehead came forward, leaning against David. "Please, Master. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I promise not to disobey again."

David could only watch him, desperately clamping down on his own emotion even as he felt his pant legs dampening with his pet's tears.

"I know I was wrong, and I'm so so sorry, Sir. I will be so good, please don't send me away."Kurt could feel his head being lifted, and his tear tracks wiped by large, calloused fingers. He dared not look up to find the disgust there. He tightened his arms where they were wrapped around his waist.

"Pet, I don't do this to cause you pain. If this woman is your relative, and willing to pay for your release as she said to, it will simply be a transaction. Your freedom for the money to reimburse me. All very plain, I fear. Your offense was more than paid for by your punishment at my hands, and I apologize for not telling you so." David pulled his hands away from Kurt's face, unable to handle touching him anymore, sure that any more contact, and he'd lose his control and throw him down on the bed and fuck him so hard he'd feel him still when he was gone. Instead, he stood, edging around Kurt and moving to the door. "You should rest now, pet. In the bed though. No more of this punishment. You will care for yourself. It would please me if she found you healthy when she arrives."

Kurt looked up at the doorway, desperate tears falling from his eyes. He searched the room for Sir David, but he was gone, as though the whole thing was a dream, the only proof that it wasn't was a small oil painting and a lingering scent of musky male skin.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

David watched as Kurt was led down the stairs by the maid who had been caring for him. She held his hand, as he seemed less than steady on his feet, and looked ill at ease with the ill fitting clothes he wore, tugging at the seams and looking around furtively, as if waiting for punishment for wearing fine clothing. His eyes were red and his face splotchy, obviously having cried recently. He looked drawn and pale, his figure thinner than David liked.

Just then Kurt looked up, catching sight of David in the doorway of a small salon. Kurt's eyes warmed, and just when he would have lifted a hand to wave, he missed a step on the stairs and had to catch himself, requiring aid from the woman guiding him. When they had reached the bottom of the steps, he looked back down the marble tiled hallway, but David was gone. His face fell, and he meekly followed along as he was led into a small room, where he was allowed to sit on the floor in front of the fire, waiting for who knew what.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Word had come that a fine, if dated, carriage had crossed onto their property, and should arrive within the hour, and David had sent for Kurt to be dressed and brought down. He wouldn't show himself, reluctant to show himself to strangers in his cursed state. After watching Kurt descend, he'd moved to a small cupboard, pushing in a button under the shelf, and a part of the wall opened, and he slipped through, moving to a space behind the sitting room where Kurt would wait and eventually receive the woman when she arrived.

He watched through a grate in the wall that was hidden from normal view by a mural painted over it. Kurt was sitting on the rug in front of the fire. David saw him reach into a pocket and pull out something that moved. Kurt brought it up to his face, and touched his nose to it and the creature lifted it's head. Ah, a mouse then. The mouse lifted it's paw to Kurt's face, and there was a soft sigh. The tiny companion was perched on a shoulder, and it laid down to rest. Kurt's face was then tilted toward the fire, his head resting against his knees where they were pulled to his chest. His shoes were discarded near the chaise, and his bare toes curled in the carpet distractingly. David desperately wanted his hands on that skin, his body wrapped around Kurt's, wanted to be the one who earned the perch on that shoulder, breathing him in. But he wasn't that person. Not anymore. The woman would come, confirm that Kurt was her family, and would pay his debt. Then David would return to the auctions and find himself a new slave who would end the curse. All would go according to plan. At least that's what he told himself as he watched Kurt stare into the flames.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Kurt was startled by the door opening suddenly. He turned quickly, seeing a footman enter and genuflect quickly. Kurt was so startled that he almost didn't grasp what the man said. "Her Ladyship, Baroness Hartford, Sir." And with a motion, he was gone and in came sweeping an older woman fine clothes that were obviously well worn, and well cared for, but not threadbare.

Suddenly she was right there in front of him, dropping to her knees and covering her gaping mouth with a gloved hand. She choked out a sound, meeting Kurt's wide blue gaze with an identical one of her own. "Kurtis? Could it be? My Elizabeth's boy? Is it really you, Kurtis?"

Her lightly accented voice belied her foreign status, but Kurt didn't know what to say. He had no memory of this woman, and couldn't remember ever hearing of her either. "My name is Kurt, though my Master sometimes calls me Mutt. Should I know you?"

Fat tears were soon rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. "Oh, darling. I'm so very sorry. You will never know how much guilt I carry for what has happened to you. When your Aunt told me that you had died with your father, I should never have believed her. A heartless, self serving wretch if ever I knew one. When I found her journal entries after her passing and saw that you lived, and were done away with, I was heartbroken, and I searched for you, but I never found you. Until a fortnight ago when a letter came, asking about a slave called Kurt, and I had to take the chance." She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, wiping at her face gently. "Now. I only have to pay this man his due, and you will have your rightful freedom and we'll be off."

Kurt made a small noise, protest coming from his throat before he was able to control it. Soft, gentle eyes turned to him, and an understanding look graced him. "Well, I am rather exhausted. I'm sure your patron wouldn't mind housing the servants and I for a night before we go. Would that make you more comfortable, dearling? We can sup together and speak a little before starting our journey tomorrow?" She waited until Kurt nodded meekly, reaching out to stroke his soft hair before standing and moving to the hallway. Kurt listened to her voice fade and let his face fall, his whole body shaking with his sobs.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Kurt knew that if he was going to have to leave the next day, he needed to see Sir David again, at least once. He now had free roam of the castle, though he'd been shown back to the master suite after supper the night before. He had muddled his way through eating the meal with utensils and sitting in the chair, but other than a few pitying looks from this woman who appeared to be his grandmother, there was no real difficulty. He hadn't seen Sir David, other than the glimpse from the stairs, since he'd come to the rooms to chastise him and give him the portrait three days before, and so now, he searched. He'd gotten help from one of the footmen to find the dungeons where he'd spent his first days here with David. His bare feet were still awkward on the stairs, so he held onto the manservant's shoulder as they descended. When they arrived, Kurt moved past him, not bothering to knock on the open door, but swinging it closed behind him.

He could see Sir David lying on the bed in the corner, and immediately started disrobing. He folded the clothes neatly, piling them on a bench hear the door. When he was nude, he dropped to his knees, and closed his eyes for a moment at the comfort of the familiar. He crawled over to the foot of the bed and then climbed up onto the soft surface, smiling softly at the soft snores coming from his Master. He was lying naked, only covered by a fine sheet. Kurt pulled it aside, climbing up between Master's legs and taking his soft cock into his mouth, settling in and soon falling asleep himself, finally feeling at home.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

David was having the most amazing dream. He was lying with Kurt, thrusting into his tight body, listening to him moan and pant, those pale thighs spread so beautifully, his slick ass clenching around David's cock. Suddenly there was a sniffle, and movement, and David jerked to wakefulness, realizing that he wasn't in bed alone. The light from the gas lamp on the table was low, but he could see and feel that there was a body tucked sweetly between his knees, and he reached down, carding his fingers through the familiar thick waves, rocking forward a little and slamming his eyes shut when Kurt started sucking at him again, still entirely asleep.

He was groggy and sexually deprived, and that was what he would use as his defense if he ever needed one, but in that moment, he only felt the need. Desperate, coiled, tightening with each moment. He pulled Kurt away from his cock, reaching down to grasp him by the armpits, pulling him up and over David's chest and rolling them over. Kurt was a deep sleeper, and remained asleep as David arranged him on his back and sent a hand down between his legs, closing his eyes in defeat when he found the smooth base of a plug there, realizing that Kurt had prepped himself before coming to find him. He took a deep breath in, inhaling the musk of leather, and skin, and Kurt. He moved to find the oil he used to lubricate himself, coating his cock before coming back to Kurt, gently removing the plug and reaching in with slick fingers to be sure that he was sufficiently prepared before David was sliding in, burying his face into Kurt's soft neck at the feeling of peace and home he felt when buried inside the boy.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Kurt was having an incredible dream. David was buried inside him, thrusting long and slow, and his knees were up and over those broad shoulders, and just as he was about to beg to come, the dream dissolved, but before he was able to feel upset, he realized that this was no dream, but David was pounding inside his ass, that huge strong hand wrapped tightly around his cock, big golden eyes trained on his face as he came to, realizing that he was the one making those noises he heard. He considered silencing himself, but just then David thrust extra hard, pulling up and twisting his thumb on Kurt's dick, pressing forward, and taking Kurt's mouth in a rough kiss.

Kurt brought his hands up, tangling them in the hair on David's head, falling ever deeper into his kiss, moaning at the taste and texture, not having realized just how desperately he'd wanted, nay, needed that taste, and touch, and -there!- David was hitting his prostate with each thrust, and Kurt was whining and whimpering, and then begging for release, and David was whispering his permission, and they were coming, seeming like it was together, but it could have just been overlapping, or completely separate. Kurt was so lost to his orgasm, he wouldn't remember later how they'd gotten into position to sleep, but some time later he'd wake up with David at his back, and with David's thumb in his mouth, while the big man thrust inside him from behind, and he'd come and come and come and then they would fall asleep wrapped up together again, unmindful of the state of the sheets on the pallet bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Demon Prince

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

Kurt wasn't settling well. He had the most luxurious of spaces for himself, and a constant stream of visitors wanting to welcome him 'home', and his clothes were of the finest fabrics, servants always on hand to fetch him anything he wanted. He was miserable.

When he was finally alone in his rooms at night, he would take the sheet from the bed, strip off his clothes, and curl up on the floor by the fire, thumb tucked in his mouth, and would cry quietly until sleep claimed him. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly adrift, he would take the ribbons from the bed curtains and would wrap one around his ankles, then another around his wrists, but he didn't need it most nights.

The days were long and empty, especially without his tiny furred companion. He was surrounded by people, and sometimes he would hold a book open in his hands so that they wouldn't speak to him, instead speaking with his Grandmother and pretending to ignore him, but still sending looks his way.

He knew they thought him odd, and who could blame them, when here he was, so ill fitting in this place. He should be happy with these comforts, should feel lucky to be with family again, should be grateful for all the things now offered to him, should be relieved to be outside his previous sphere as a slave, and yet...

He sighed, flipping a page in his book without reading a single word. If he tried, he could make out a few words if he concentrated. He had learned when he was a child, but so many years without the need of reading had dulled his abilities.

The room had gone quiet, and he glanced around to realize that his Grandmother had left. There were a few women sitting on a chaise not far from him, but they were busy talking to each other, completely ignoring him.

Just then one of them looked up, catching him watching, and flushed. She squared her shoulders, though, and raised a brow. "Do you mind me asking- what was it like? Living with the demon prince?"

Kurt was completely taken aback. "The who?" The book fell to his lap as his fingers went lax.

The girl sighed loudly, sitting forward to sit on the edge of her seat. "The demon prince. You lived with him, yes? What was it like? Was he monstrous? Terrifying? You are so brave for surviving it. Such tales are told of his wicked temper and his soulless gaze." She shuddered, sharing a glance with her seat partner, who nodded in agreement.

Kurt just looked between them for a moment, at a loss. He firmed his jaw. "He was no demon. And his eyes are not soulless. They are an odd shade of gold, to be sure, but nothing un-human. And his temper was broken but once during my stay with him, but it was earned, as I had broken a hard rule of the house. As for the rest, he was a very good Master, and I was never terrified of him, even at his worst." He snapped the book shut, making to stand, but the girls next words stopped him dead.

"Well, it won't be an issue for much longer anyway. His curse will come due soon, and then he'll die just like the witch prophesied." She shrugged it off, a simple phrase, and yet Kurt was frozen.

"Say that again. What witch? What prophesy?" His breathing was labored, and his chest felt as if there was a weight on it.

She looked surprised that he would have to ask. "He was cursed for his selfish foolishness when he was a boy, the curse to expire on his twenty first birthday, and he could only be freed by the submission of a slave, the perfect trust of a love match, and if he didn't gain that trust, he would die alone before he became a man." She shrugged a pretty shoulder carelessly. "So soon the demon prince will no longer haunt the realm. If I'm not mistaken his birthday is a fortnight after midsummer's eve, and that's next week, is it not?"

Her companion nodded, giving a confirming murmur.

Kurt turned his suddenly tearing gaze to the carpet, his fingers toying with the expensive lace on his sleeves. How long he sat there, he didn't know, but when he came back to himself, it was to the ladies standing and excusing themselves for the day. He stood, nodding to them, and when he'd watched them leave, he set out to find his Grandmother. He had plans to make.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

David had handed over the running of the castle to his steward, and had retreated to his suite. Once there, he had attempted to sleep in his bed, finding it smelling too much of Kurt, and had called in the servants to change the bed clothes, and while he waited he sat in the chair by the fire.

He ate from a plate of bread and cheese that had been fetched for him, and when he spilled a few crumbs, there was movement on the floor, as a tiny mouse came running out to capture his leavings. About to call out to the servants to rid him of it, he stopped suddenly when he realized that the creature was wearing a bow. Just a tiny bit of thread tied around it's foot, but it stopped him dead. He looked back and forth at his fireplace, realizing suddenly that the pest hadn't run from him.

He had a sudden idea, taking a bit of the bread in his fingers and holding them out to the tiny beast, sucking in a breath when it moved closer, sniffing him, then eating from his hand. When the little creature had finished what he had in his hand, it retreated to the woodpile, and a crack in the wall there that David hadn't seen before.

He clenched his jaw, holding tight to his emotions, but when the last servant came to tell him that they were finished, he ordered his privacy, and sat staring into the fire. He wouldn't allow himself the release and weakness of tears. Beasts didn't cry. The thought that kept him secure, though, was that he wouldn't have to worry about slaves and mice for much longer. Less than a month until his birthday, and it would all be over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Returning Champion

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

His Grandmother thought he was insane, wanting to return, but he wouldn't be swayed. There were things more important than fine clothes, and Kurt knew with a clarity born of too much time spent staring into a fireplace, that he would never forgive himself if he didn't try to help Sir David. And so he'd packed up everything he thought he might need, which, granted, wasn't much, since he was so used to having little or nothing, but also contained some food for the journey, since he didn't wish to stop very many times.

It was a five day ride by carriage, but Kurt had no experience on horseback, and didn't trust himself not to break his neck on such a journey. Grandmother wanted to come along, but Kurt was adamant that she would be safer at home, since the weather was starting to be inclement. He wouldn't realize until later that he may have jinxed his own journey with those words.

Two days in, there had been a landslide, taking out the road, and what would have been a five, perhaps six day trip, could now be months long if they waited for the road to be cleared for them. Kurt had sat with his coachman and the local priest, borrowing his map of the area, and chosen a new route, but this would take more than a week. Kurt had thanked the clergyman, gathered his servants, and they had moved out.

Having gotten lost once, ending up in a briar patch at a dead end, losing an entire day, they finally made it to the last Inn before the castle. There would be a stretch of several hours of travel on their last day, since Sir David lived on an enormous piece of private land, so they had decided to rest the horses and themselves before starting that last leg.

Kurt wiped at his forehead, the common room being quite warm, and full of people. There was a celebration of some sort going on. He asked his coachman to find out what it was all about for him, since he was too timid to ask himself, and he sat and slowly consumed the soup presented to him by the innkeeper's daughter.

When the coachman returned, Kurt was horrified to realize that their journey had taken much longer than he'd thought, as the days had tended to run together. It was now twelve days past midsummer's eve. Which meant that Sir David's birthday was less than two days away. Kurt's spoon fell as the coachman explained to him that the celebration was in honor of the end of the curse, and the coming demise of the demon prince.

Kurt choked, staring down into the bowl. There was no way he'd be able to eat it now, knowing how close they would be, gauging in his mind exactly how long they'd need to travel to reach the castle. He finally pulled his eyes up, scooting back from the table. "I'm going up to the room to rest. Tell the others to be ready at dawn. We have to make it on time. I won't let him die." And then he was out of the room, the coachman watching his back with concerned eyes.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

David had retreated to the dungeon, thinking that when the curse took him, at least he'd be in the familiar space with the scent of leather and the memory of a certain slave. Their last night together had been spent here, orgasming over and over as their bodies came together. No words had been spoken, but touches and kisses had said enough. He had marked Kurt over and over, each bit of skin he could get his teeth and tongue onto had bloomed with color, his fingers leaving faint bruises on hips and limbs, their lips growing raw.

Now each time David looked at the pallet he heard faint moans and broken whimpers in that high pitched voice. He had finally let the servants change the sheets down here, but kept the dirty ones in a pile, and the filthy, scratchy surface was now his home. He wallowed in the scent of Kurt, the memory of him fresh and painful. Soon, he thought.

Eight hours till midnight. He had refused a last meal, instead concentrating on the pain in his belly and staring into the blazing flames in the grate. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep,

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Kurt pushed past the doorman, not waiting for admittance. "What is the hour?" He demanded. He'd gotten better at demanding things during his time with his Grandmother.

The servant looked shocked, moving out of the way as Kurt's servants filed in after him. "Um... half past seven, Sir. Would you like me to send someone for the Master? He's in seclusion, though, so he might not...Sir?"

Kurt had kept walking, waving his servants away. He called behind him to the doorman. "Please give refreshment to my men. As to the Master, I know where I'll find him, and need no envoy, thank you."

The servant looked from Kurt's retreating form, then back to the small group of men in the hall. "Well, I suppose you'll all follow me to the kitchens, then?" Murmurs of assent and thanks, and he shut the front door, leading them into the rear of the castle.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

When Kurt reached the level that held the dungeon room, he sent the servant there to fetch food and drink that could sit, telling him to deliver it outside the door, and to let them be.

Then he braced himself, looking at that door that was separating him from the 'Demon'. It had been such a long, exhausting journey, but he couldn't rest yet. There were steps to be taken before midnight, and he would not shirk, not when David's life hung in the balance.

He took a deep breath and swung open the door. He had a flash of dejavu, seeing David asleep there, the fire dim, and a single lamp lit. Taking off his clothing took longer this time, since they were fashionable clothes with ties and clasps and buckles, but he soon had a neatly folded pile, and sank to his knees with a small moan. He felt the emotion rush even as he crawled over to the bed, but this time he didn't climb in for sleep. This time he'd had to do without the facilities of a pleasure slave, so he gathered the oil, and moved to the chamber pot and the small contraption for flushing himself. It took a little time, as he hadn't completed his rituals for some weeks, but once finished, he returned to the bed, undressing David's lax form.

His clothes were rough and unruly, especially on his unresponsive form, but Kurt was determined, and soon had him nude as well. He wanted to mount David right then, or crawl down his front to suck him to arousal, but there were steps to take. He had talked with the spell woman who worked in his grandmother's kitchens, and she had told him what it would take to break this caliber of a curse, and he had a plan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How to break a curse

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

David felt flutterings around him, but his fuzzy exhausted brain said it was just dreams, phantom hands that had been haunting him ever since the old carriage had driven away through the gates. He faded back to sleep, too tired to even feel upset about Phantom Kurt. Then, just as he was reaching a sound place, there were hands on him. Not phantom hands, but actual soft hands. Familiar hands. He opened his eyes the tiniest bit, expecting to find himself alone and falling into madness, and there he was.

David sucked in a breath and jerked back, not going far, as he was lying prone on the dungeon pallet, but still shifting enough that Kurt's hand fell away. He was smiling. David found that strange because Phantom Kurt never smiled. He was always upset at David for something or other. This Kurt, though, was grinning at him, and there were tears on his face. David reached up to wipe at the tears, and stared at his hand when it came away wet. Oh. Not a phantom then. "Kurt?" His voice was a croak from disuse.

"Yes. You need to get up. We don't have a lot of time." There was another tug at his arm, and David sat up, moving his head from side to side, trying to clear it of the sleep that had him groggy.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. Your Grandmother-" He was silenced by a hand over his mouth.

"Grandmother has a romantic heart, and when I told her that I needed to come back, she was against it at first," His hand moved so it was tracing David's lips, rather than blocking them. "but then I told her that I could break the curse, well, she demanded that I take her with me." A soft chuckle of fondness for the woman who had accepted him so readily and had been such a comfort. "I rid her of that idea quickly. What I do not need is my sweet elderly grandmother walking in on me submitting sexually." He leaned forward to press his nose into David's neck, inhaling deeply.

"Wh- Kurt, you can't break the curse. Just submitting won't do it, or else it would have been broken a long time ago. I'm sure you mean well, but this is for the best. You'll see. You should go. Get dressed and go home." It broke his heart to say it, but he didn't want Kurt there to witness it when he died.

Kurt scoffed at him. "I'm not simple, David. I know what it will require, and I'm not going anywhere. There are certain things I will not be commanded to do. I'm no one's slave anymore, if you'll recall."

Those golden eyes were suddenly sad and proud all at once. "Oh, I recall. But I still don't understand what you're doing here."

Kurt moved back, standing next to the bed, and reached just under the edge. He drew a blade out, and David sucked in a hard breath, his head rearing back in shock. Kurt just reached out with one hand to stroke at David's cheek, shushing him softly. He then held out one wrist, baring it, and bringing the knife to his skin.

"Stop! Right now. What in the name of all the Gods do you think you're doing?" David was on his feet, gripping the knife and trying to pull it from Kurt's grasp.

"It's part of the curse, David. I'm not just trying to hurt myself here. Let go so I can do this." His blue eyes were fierce and commanding.

"Not until you explain yourself. How will cutting your arm break this hopeless curse?"

Kurt let go of the blade, bringing both hands up to cup David's face tenderly. "I have to sacrifice myself for you. I talked to a witch of sorts, and she told me that it wouldn't actually require my death, just a spilling of my blood, and then I'll submit myself to you."

"But it won't be enough." He turned his head, allowing his lips to coast over the palm of one of Kurt's soft hands. "I told you, this is hopeless, and I won't let you harm yourself for nothing."

Kurt shook his head at him, becoming exasperated. "Why do you keep saying that? If we follow the steps, we can fix this. I can fix this. Now all I need is for you to let me."

"Kurt-"

"David." He took a breath. "Master." he sank to his knees.

David watched him, unable to move as he watched the boy reach for the blade where it was hanging form his limp fingers. It slid through his flesh, not deeply, but enough to shed a few precious drops, and Kurt's incredible blue eyes closed on a hiss of pain. David dropped down, kneeling before him, taking the bleeding wrist to his mouth, sucking the flesh in, determined to stop the flow.

Kurt watched, setting the blade aside, out of the way, before he reached up to run his fingers through David's thick hair, scratching at his scalp gently. He pulled his arm away, drawing those lips, now streaked with red, to his own, moaning softly at the initial touch, the metallic tang of his blood on David's tongue. He savored it, and him, until he the need for air pulled him away. "Remember- " He was gasping, desperately pressing closer. "Do you remember how you you took me up that day? When I was scared and you had to pull me off of the cross, do you remember?"

His eyes were huge and wet, and David was sure he would fall into them and drown. "Of course I remember. What is the significance?" He was shaking his head gently.

Kurt kissed him again, quickly, unable to hold off. "The witch woman, she said that if you took me there, that it would break the curse. She said that after I sacrificed myself, shed my own blood, that you could send me to that place, and then our lovemaking would seal it."

David was shaking his head, his heart breaking for the hope on Kurt's face. "But it won't work, Kurt. We've done all that before. If that were right, it should have broken months ago. What difference would it make to do it again today?" His eyes were closed, all hope dissipating.

Kurt steeled his resolve. He hadn't come this far to be turned away. Not like this. "Look at me." he met David's golden eyes steadily, determination sharpening his features. "There is a change from then to now, and it makes all the difference. I did not love you then, but now that I do, I refuse to let your stubbornness get in my way." His hands pulled away, and he slowly separated his body from David's embrace. "Now. Do you want me on the cross, Master? Or in the stocks, perhaps?" His eyebrow was raised, and his expression told David that he wouldn't be moved from his decision.

David couldn't move. He felt himself start to shake, and he watched pitifully as Kurt moved away from him. Love. The only part of the curse that he had always known he would not be able to fulfill. Who could love a monster such as he? He had told himself and his staff that it was only a matter of time before the right person came, until they broke the curse, but it had all been a farce, something to fill the years until the curse killed him off. And now he was faced by a slave who wasn't a slave, a boy who was a man, a soul who was his love, and he wondered if he would be the one to fail him, yet again.

As Kurt moved to the cross, running his fingers over the leather, David came back to himself enough to clear his throat and start moving. "No, not the cross. Over here." He stopped at a set of chains connected to a pulley, with a set of cuffs hanging from the end. He lowered it enough that Kurt wouldn't have to stretch while he strapped him in. "I want all of you available to me, and the cross doesn't allow that."

Kurt smiled softly, his eyes following David's broad form as his arms moved, releasing the chain and securing it again, his massive muscles rippling and sliding under the skin. His gaze lowered to where David's erection was straining against his stomach, leaking just the tiniest bit. Kurt felt his own dick twitch, and he wished that they could be against each other again. What he wouldn't give to have David's heavy cock in his mouth, sliding into his throat.  _Later_ , he thought. Right now there were more pressing matters.

He moved into position, holding his hands up so that David could secure them, feeling the tightness of the leather start to pull at his mind, already moving from the Sir Hummel he'd become, and back to the simple life he'd had for so long. His eyes fluttered shut, and he felt David-no, Master-, move behind him to where the chain was secured. It started to rise, and Kurt concentrated on the pull of his muscles as his arms were drawn taut, and then pulled even further, until he was balancing on the balls of his feet, not quite on tip toe, but not able to set his whole foot down either. Then there were hands on him, gently skating over his skin. A touch across his back, a ghost of contact at his hip, a dry finger swiped up his crack, soft fabric being settled over his eyes and secured behind his head.

There was a swish, and then fire across his stomach. It shocked him physically, but mentally it was just what he'd been expecting, even more, it was just what he'd been craving. He felt the harsh burn and sting as it multiplied with each stroke of the whip. The first time they'd done this, Kurt had been confused as to where it was headed, unable to know where his body would take him at David's hands, but this time he knew what this was building to, knew that when his body had had enough, when it was too much, he'd reach that plane of awareness that was all bliss and incredible pleasure.

David watched Kurt's face as he grimaced with every pass of the leather. He started off gentle, letting the skin tint a warm pink, but once his skin was well warmed, David had pulled back further, adding more strength to the strikes, watching as stripes appeared across the flesh. He took a moment to just look, loving the view of those angles and curves he knew so well, how well they took this treatment, and seemed to thrive on it.

David circled Kurt, catching sight of his weeping cock, and his mouth began to water. Seeing no reason not to, he dropped to his knees, reaching around to grip Kurt by the ass, digging in with his nails and spreading his cheeks wide, sliding his fingers in closer, while his tongue slid out, licking at the wetness that trickled from Kurt's slit, sliding down his length. David followed the trail, then sliding back up, taking the swollen head into his mouth as Kurt cried out above him. "Please, Master. Please..."

"What do you want, slave?" he trailed down, taking his sack into his mouth, able to fit them both at once, and Kurt squealed in that high pitch of his.

"I want... I want.. .Master, please... I want Master to fuck me... but first... Master, please," his head rolled on his neck. "Please finish it, Please, Sir."

David pulled away just enough to mouth at Kurt's hip, biting down on the bone there, sucking hard to make a mark. "Finish it? You mean you want to come, Pet?" He slid over, working on a matching mark for the other side.

Kurt was so sensitive that each move David made felt like the sensation was going to claw it's way out of him. "N-no, Sir. Finish the ritual, Please, Master. Not enough time... Want you safe first..."

David rested his forehead against Kurt's skin, sliding his hands down the outer muscles of his thighs, then bracing himself to stand up. He reached his hands up to interlock his fingers with Kurt's, bringing their mouths together. After the first initial lick, he backed up a moment just to breathe together. "You always surprise me, Pet. But, yes, I will do as you ask."

Kurt's lip trembled, and he leaned his head forward to press his face against David's, tightening their fingers. "Thank you, Master."

David pulled his fingers away, trailing them slowly down Kurt's arms, and all the way down his body, watching his face contort and his body writhe as he scratched his short nails down the ultra sensitive reddened flesh. He leaned in for one last hard kiss before he moved away, reaching for his next implement.

He'd only caned Kurt a few times before, and never as part of an intense session, always just a few stripes here or there. This time was different. He started at the fullest point of Kurt's backside, moving up with his strikes until he reached Kurt's already screaming red shoulder blades, then moving back down, marking him every inch or so, then coming back and striking between those stripes, this time moving down past his ass, down his legs, and then reaching down to lift Kurt's feet off of the floor one at a time, snapping his wrist to put gentler stripes across the soles, then returning them to their arched position beneath him.

He could see in Kurt's posture that his body was taking over slowly. He was beginning to hang more slack from the bonds, his feet flattening out, and his mouth lying open, pulling in steady breaths.  _Almost there_ , David thought. He looked at his options, lying on the table, then disregarding them. He glanced around the room, his eyes finally coming to rest on a selection of paddles hanging from the far wall. He leaned close to Kurt, pressing a kiss below his ear and whispering a soft, "Just a second, pet." and crossing the room to select a flexible leather piece about half the length of his forearm, and as broad as his palm.

He returned, smoothing a hand down Kurt's back, cupping his hot ass for a moment, then pulling his arm back and letting fly. He counted strokes, and at fifteen Kurt was whimpering in his throat like a puppy, but no outward noises could be heard but the smack of leather on flesh. At twenty eight, was crying out softly at each impact. At forty five, his body was wriggling, a constant moan interrupted only by an occasional squeal. At sixty, Kurt was crying out, a steady sound that nearly had David stopping this whole thing, but then he thought back to Kurt's heartfelt plea, and he continued. At seventy three, it happened. His entire frame gave a jerk, and then the moaning was back. David didn't stop yet, wanting to prolong Kurt's stay, but he gentled the slaps, just tapping him at this point. Eventually his arm felt as though it would come unattached, and he had to admit defeat.

He lowered the bonds enough that he'd be able to unhook Kurt safely, coming to stand in front of him, ducking his head into the loop created by his arms, pulling him forward so that if he were aware, Kurt would be hugging his neck from behind. He then released the buckles, keeping Kurt tight to him, and lifting his weight onto his shoulders, and taking him to the bed. He lay him on his belly and got a good look. His entire back and sides were a bright crimson, but the skin hadn't broken. The color faded from the outside of his thighs to the inside, and David suddenly wanted to inspect that flesh.

He pushed Kurt's legs wide, climbing between them, smiling when he found traces of his lubricating oil there from when Kurt had obviously cleaned himself. He put his hands gently to the red curve of Kurt's ass, pulling his cheeks wide and moving in, inhaling deeply the scent of sweat and leather that clung to his skin. His tongue came out, licking at the tightly puckered hole, his teeth scraping at the tender pink skin. He pressed in, feeling the tight resistance that was quickly replaced with a grasp on his tongue. He slid in, then out, mimicking the movement he'd make with his cock in a few minutes.

Soon, satisfied that he'd be able to mount his pet, he pulled away, seeking out his oil. He didn't go straight for Kurt's entrance, wanting to be sure his skin was cared for, especially after the abuse he'd received from the implements, and so he spilled some of the oil onto his hands, dripping it onto Kurt's shoulder blades, bringing his hands down to rub it in gently, making sure not to abrade the flesh too badly with his coarse hands. He smoothed down his spine, spreading out to work the oil over his ribs, then his lower back, and his ass. He kept going, down those muscular legs, feeling almost reverent at this unexpected opportunity to have his hands all over this body once again. He glanced at the clock on the wall.  _Just under an hour until the end,_  he thought. He wished that he could have faith the way Kurt seemed to, that they could break the curse at the last moment, but too many years of facing his doom prevented him from hoping.

Through wasting time, especially since it was in so short a supply for him, he slicked his cock, reaching down to press one finger inside, then two, rolling them from side to side, and then spreading them wide before pulling away. It would be a stretch, and Kurt would probably be sore later, but that was alright with David. He liked the idea that Kurt would feel him for a few days at least. Hands pressed flat to the bed, he brought himself to Kurt's opening, thrusting inside slowly, feeling the skin stretching around him. He leaned down, letting his furred chest rub against Kurt's back, resting part of his weight there as he rocked himself inside, setting a slow pace, wanting this to last until it was almost time.  _At least I'll die happy,_  went through his head.

He rocked them, his knees against the bed on either side of Kurt's completely surrounding him on the bed, until he could feel the burn creeping up his spine, and he knew he was close. He was desperate to see Kurt's face, to kiss him. He glanced at the clock. Half an hour more. Pulling back, he turned Kurt over, bringing him up so that his head rested on the pillow, sliding his thighs wide, tucking his knees up on either side of his lean waist. David realized only then that Kurt was still wearing the blindfold he'd tied on what seemed so long ago now. Reaching up and pulling it off, he ran the fabric through his hands, contemplating the length and looking Kurt over. He tied one end off around Kurt's left knee, sliding the fabric underneath his shoulders, then up the other side, bringing it up to tie around the right, securing them up and out of the way. He then added more oil to his cock, sliding in once more, reaching down to grip Kurt's dick, stroking it firmly.

For Kurt, it was like being immersed in cold water suddenly. Where he was moments ago floating through waves of pleasure, his limbs loose and his nerves singing with sensation, now he was all to aware of David thrusting in his ass, his hand tightly wrapped around his cock, and his legs secured to his chest, a tightness around his shoulders. And his back. Oh, Gods, his back. It was screaming on fire, warm and sticky feeling, rubbing off on the sheets, his hands lifted above his head, but not tied. "Master" It was a thready, whimpering moan.

"Ahh... welcome back, Pet." taking his hand from Kurt's erection, he moved it down to where he was sliding in and out, watching Kurt's face as he slid it inside along with his dick, crooking it to tap at that most sensitive place, stretching his rim open even further.

Kurt screamed, the sensation too much, and he came almost immediately, not even waiting for permission. David watched him, how his muscles all seemed to tense, the milky fluid shooting up his stomach and across his thighs where they were spread open and tied down. He continued thrusting, not changing his pace, as Kurt floated back down, his eyes still mostly unfocused. He moaned a little, adorable in his post orgasm haze. "Master?"

"Yes, pet?" He twisted his hips, bringing an exhausted moan from Kurt.

"Can I have my legs loose, Sir? I can't reach you." His eyes were blinking sweetly, and David could deny him nothing. He reached up, untying the knots and rubbing gently at the marks left by the cloth.

Once released, Kurt wrapped his legs around David's waist, reaching his arms up to surround his wide shoulders. He tugged, giggling a little when David seemed to fall on top of him at the sudden movement. The kiss was dirty, full of tongue, and teeth, and a deep heat. "Mmmmm... " Kurt hummed the sound against his jaw. "You're safe." he tucked in, happy to let David continue fucking him forever.

David felt that rush of sadness again, matched with the need to make Kurt understand, so he wouldn't be shocked when it happened in -a glance to the clock- ten minutes. "Pet, " He took a deep breath, pausing for a moment. "Kurt. This didn't change anything, sweetling. It's nearly time, and I need you to know that I'm so glad you came back, and that I've never felt so connected to another person, alright?"

Kurt's eyes were narrowed. "No. No that's not right. We followed all the steps. I made myself a blood sacrifice, and you sent my mind a'soar, and now we're making love. It will work. It has to." His throat was getting thick, his frustration mounting as David shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Kurt." He pressed his forehead to the fine collarbones that filled his dreams, feeling a stray tear leak out.

"No. You're wrong. It will work. You'll see." He reached for David's face, pulling him up and pressing small, frantic kisses to his lips. "It'll work, because I came back, and I was in time, and I love you, and she said.." More kisses, desperation mixed with tears.

David heard the words, felt the wetness as it mixed between their lips, making their faces slide. He tightened his grip on Kurt's waist, and then it was too much, and he was coming, coming, hearing the distant clang of the clock, counting out twelve strikes, and as he faded back down, all he could see was Kurt, all he could feel, or smell, or taste, was Kurt, and it was alright.

The chimes faded, and Kurt ran his hands up and down that wide back, suddenly noticing a change. The hair felt different. "David?" No. It wasn't real. He wasn't gone. Not like this. Kurt grunted at the effort, but was able to roll them over, leaning up to look him over, hissing as the heavy, soft cock slid out of his slick ass, come dribbling down his thigh. His eyes widened. He was breathing, but... it was David, surely, but not quite... he was different... the scars that had run across his face were missing, and the hair that covered his muscles was there, but it was shorter, finer, and as his eyes fluttered open, meeting Kurt's, he realized that they weren't the odd gold any longer. They were, but it was mixed now with green, splotches of color blended together. He asked again, "David?"

"Wh-? I'm not dead. Am I? Am I dead? Did I suffocate you when I died?"

Kurt huffed a surprised laugh. "No, you idiot. But you're different. I think we really did it."

David looked down his front, noticing a few changes, and then he shoved Kurt to the other side of the bed unceremoniously, lifting up to move to the looking glass by the door, taking the lamp with him. "Oh sweet Venus, look at that." His frame was still wide and muscular, but his hair had changed, and his hands were less wide and furred, his legs just a bit shorter. When Kurt walked up behind him, peeking over his shoulder at his reflection they both realized that David had lost some height, making him just a bit taller than Kurt's moderate height.

Kurt threw his arms around David's neck from behind, unknowingly mimicking the way David had carried him earlier. "I told you we could do it."

David snorted in a breath, leaning forward to press his lips to Kurt's hands where they rested on his collarbones. "So you did, Love. So you did."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

Standing there behind him, Kurt had marveled at the physical changes, and the lovely ways he was very much the same, as well. His hair, his eyes, and his height, obviously, were major changes, but the things that Kurt loved the best, his rough hands, wide shoulders and arms, his slightly crooked lower teeth, all remained.

The body hair wasn't so bad, either. It was still present, and Kurt couldn't wait to see what it felt like to have it all pressed against him, see if he liked it better than before. Not that it really mattered. None of it mattered. He'd loved David with scars on his face and yellow eyes, and he would love David with this new, strikingly handsome face and greenish eyes as well. So long as he was the same unaffected, silly, caring, selfless brute underneath it all, that was all that mattered, because that self doubting brute belonged to Kurt just as strongly as Kurt belonged to him in return.

They had fetched the tray of food from the hallway, feeding each other on the floor by the fire. It seemed so romantic to Kurt that he nearly forgot about the abrasions on his back. Right up until David had laid him on his back on the rug, climbing over him upside down, guiding his cock into Kurt's mouth before doing the same from above. Kurt had sucked until his jaw had gone slack with his own orgasm, then smiled softly as David had come in spurts all over his face, laughing softly as it was rubbed in by gentle hands, feeling it get sticky and dry tacky. They had ventured down the stairs to the bathing chamber, washing each other, and coming once more, grinding together in the hot bubbles.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

When they made it back to the dungeon room, it had been to collapse into the bed, tangled together, Kurt making David smile when he'd laced their fingers together and brought their combined thumbs to his mouth and had shamelessly scooted his backside into David until he was comfortable, falling asleep almost immediately. David had watched him sleep for a while, finally fading off to the sound of Kurt's heavy, steady breathing, and the occasional squeak of his suckling.

David had been awakened by Kurt sliding down onto his cock, facing his feet, his raw back and ass on display where they were posed above him. He nearly cried, feeling so at home, and yet so on edge. Kurt had put his hands to work fondling their balls where they were pressed together, stroking his cock slowly as he rocked. David sat up, bringing his hairy chest up to Kurt's back, letting his hard nipples rub on that super sensitized flesh, loving the heat and roughness of it. When Kurt had cried out at the attention, he had reached around, grasping onto Kurt's nipples, tweaking them and pulling, rolling them in his hands as he remembered doing so long ago in their bath. It didn't take long before they were both desperately moving together, having rolled when Kurt had run out of strength, David pounding into him from behind, until they had both left the earth, then crashed back down together, falling asleep in a tangle of limbs, replete until they had enough energy to do it again, and again.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

When they had finally surfaced from the bowels of the castle, it was to much rejoicing from the staff. Congratulations and feasting, and half a dozen messengers sent out, taking the good news far and wide. They had celebrated with the estate people, then had retreated to the master suite, where they had celebrated together again.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

David woke in the wee hours of the morning, noting the cooling sheets in the pre-dawn light. He heard soft singing, and followed it into the sitting room where Kurt was sitting in front of the fire he'd built up, wrapped in a sheet, holding a tiny ball of fur in his hand.

Kurt looked up when David entered, smiling at him, and motioning for him to join them. "I missed him. I worried that he wouldn't be fed, but I see that I was in vain." He looked a little sad. "I suppose he didn't need me after all."

David wrapped Kurt in his arms from behind, reaching forward with a fingertip to rub gently at the creature's head. "I don't know about that." He flicked the tiny bow that still adorned his foot. "If he hadn't been wearing this, I wouldn't have known to share with him, and where would he be, even now? Certainly not being serenaded in the master suite of the castle, that's for sure."

Kurt twisted, meeting David's new green eyes in the flickering firelight. "You did? Really?" At his responding nod, Kurt quickly set the mouse down near the wood pile and twisted, kissing David hard. "You are simply the  _best_  man, do you know that?"

David laughed, kissing Kurt back. "I think that most of the kingdom would disagree with you." He pointed to himself. "Demon Prince, remember?"

Kurt turned, discarding the sheet in favor of climbing fully into David's lap, straddling his legs and taking his face between his hands. "Well, they know nothing, obviously. And now you have me to remind you." He leaned in for a kiss, this time with purpose, and then they were too busy for talking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AFTER THE FAIRY TALE

 

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

David's uncle hadn't been very happy when he realized that the curse had been broken. In fact, he had yelled, and thrown a priceless vase, and had punched the messenger in the face. He then had taken his closest advisers and his mistress, and had fled the kingdom. Kurt had worried about possible uprising, but when they'd gotten news that his Uncle had taken a drunken fall from his horse and died, they had quietly buried him, covered all the mirrors, and worn black for a month.

In the weeks between the Prince Regent's disappearance and Sir David's coronation, there was much to be done. He and his household, (as he wouldn't hear of being without his closest and most loyal servants,) had had to move from the country estate, and into the capital. His uncle's personal possessions were packed up and relocated to storage, and the space re-allocated. Kurt had worn a secret smile as he'd overseen the unpacking and re-assembling of the toy room from the Master Suite at the old castle. He, of course, had come along.

His Grandmother had learned of the ending of the curse, and had quickly borrowed a carriage from a friend, as Kurt had taken her only vehicle suitable for a long trip. She had decided to bypass the landslide, (which was still causing much difficulty in travel,) by going directly to the Royal Palace. Initially, she'd been turned away by the castle staff, but once she'd been spotted by one of David's personal entourage, had been quickly allowed entrance. She had swept herself up to her less than impressive height and sent scathing looks at each of the doormen with a sniff.

Once she had been reunited with her grandson, she had exclaimed over his bright complexion and shining eyes, which they found helpful when David walked into the room holding a cane in one hand and a whip in the other, not looking up, but studying the objects in his hands.

"Where did you want these, again, love? They were in the bedchamber, but I thought they were meant to be in the toy roo- Oh dear Gods. I'm so sorry, Baroness." he reached around himself, trying to hide the items in his hands behind his back, quite unsuccessfully.

She only laughed, bringing a hand to his cheek and exclaiming how he reminded her of her own Finnaeus when she was young. "But don't you dare call me Baroness when we're alone, young man. We are soon to be family, are we not? At least that is what I heard murmurs of as I traveled." She glanced between them shrewdly. "It's not every day that the new King petitions the courts to allow him to marry his male companion."

David blushed, glancing up at Kurt, still not sure what to do with his hands, or the implements in them. Kurt only raised a brow and tried not to smile in mischief.

"No, no. I shall call you David, and I shall be Grandmother, or simply Rachel will do, if that will not. No more of this baroness nonsense. I won't have it." She leaned closer to David, voice a mock whisper, "And don't think that Finnaeus and I were unaware of the joys of a whip, boy. I am not so much a blushing maiden." With a kiss to both of their cheeks, she had asked to be shown to her rooms to rest, promising that the rest of Kurt's wardrobe were downstairs, waiting to be delivered to him.

David looked to Kurt in her wake, mouth hung wide. "That woman..."

Kurt smiled wide, dimples making an appearance. "I know, isn't she lovely? A little overbearing, of course, but so earnest that I can't help but adore her." He shrugged, moving to locate his belongings.  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A proposal

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

 

The first time David brought up the possibility of him marrying a man, there had been laughter from around the council room. It had quickly sobered when they had seen the stony expression and displeased air. There had been much tittering and posing, but the response had been unanimous, that it simply wasn't possible.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

The second time it was brought up, it was in response to a fawning Duchess as she pressed the new sovereign to take notice of her young daughters, displayed almost lewdly in order to gain his attention. He had merely raised a brow and pronounced that until he could marry his love, he would remain unwed. The woman had smiled cattily, and made some comment about the whims of the heart, fickle spirits, and longing loins. He had promptly shut her up by responding that his love for Sir Hummel was not fickle or a whim, and until his companion could be at his side to reign, he would remain alone on the throne. The woman had gasped hard, completely shocked at his casual admittance to his homosexual relationship and it's solidity and importance. She had made her way quickly from the court, dragging her simpering daughters along.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

The third time, David was in conference with three of the highest members of the council, discussing the coming coronation, David's re-immersion into society, and the role his companion played in all of those things. He refused to budge on his insistence that he would marry Sir Hummel or no other, and the men were becoming agitated.

"But Highness, if the other nations should decry us?"

"For what? We are a peaceful nation, known for our cloth and our high level of respect for mankind, giving love one to another. Do you imply that my being allowed to marry the person I love would besmirch that reputation somehow? Because I fail to see how it would be so. I see no sense in marrying someone of the opposite sex in a blatant lie, proving myself to be an easily swayed simpleton who prefers cock when his wife isn't looking." He shook his head at them, rolling his eyes at their combined gasp of shock at his crude reference. "Gentlemen, I am not inferring that you should leave your wives for a stable boy, but I refuse to give up my happiness that of Sir Hummel on account of your bigotry. So if you plan on my producing an heir, and you know that given my background I am quite familiar with the craft, and I can tell you assuredly that there are methods, it would behoove you to speak with your brethren of the council, as it is in all of our best interests for the King to procreate, is it not? Aye. So you all had best follow through with your end of this, and consider your priorities carefully. I will not be trifled with." And with that, he stood, gave them all a firm nod, and took his leave.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

The first time Kurt heard about David's decision that they would marry was at a banquet being given in David's honor by a close childhood of his Father and Uncle. He vaguely remembered him from his own childhood, a falling out when his Father's temper had been aggravated, and his Uncle following his Father's lead. The older gentleman, the Marquis of Sheldon, had been a champion of David being able to spend his life with a partner of his own choosing, was standing up to give a speech, and it was the final line that had Kurt's jaw dropping, and also very nearly his wine as well. "So let us all raise a glass to His Highness, Prince David, may he and his companion and future husband, Sir Hummel, live long and happily together, and may their reign prove fruitful and blessed."

Kurt had swung around to face David quickly, the drink in his glass sloshing dangerously. "What?" it was a gasp, nearly silent, but David saw it on his lips easily enough.

David didn't respond to Kurt directly, instead raising his glass back to their host. "Thank you, Sheldon. Though I have to admit that your congratulations are a bit premature, as I haven't had the opportunity to ask Sir Hummel properly yet, and the council remains silent on their stance on our companionship."

Sheldon had been shocked and a little concerned, until he caught sight of Kurt's look of wide eyed wonder where it was directed at the Prince. Then he laughed reflexively. "Well, if I may recommend it, Your Highness, I think you might see fit to ask him finally. I hardly think he would deny you."

David had finally turned to Kurt, taking in his look of pure adoration and shy hope. "Well, the man speaks sense, I think." He set his glass down on the table, reaching for Kurt's where it dangled from his fingers, moving from where they stood at the high table, positioning himself so he was to the side of the table, with no obstacles between himself and Kurt, while still giving a good view to the room of spectators and guests. "Sir Hummel, if I may, I bid thee consider my troth, and if it not be allowed us, to consent to spend all your days, "

"AND NIGHTS!" Shouted from somewhere in the crowd. The entire room burst into laughter, and while David cracked a grin, he refused to be waylaid now.

He held up his hand until the room was silent again. "Kurtis Hummel, son of Elizabeth and Burtram, will you live by my side and allow me to love you, and worship you, and be my King Consort when they allow it be so, being a Father with me, and my companion forever?"

Kurt was crying in earnest now, sure his face was all red splotches and gross tears, but found himself nodding and reaching for David, where he'd fallen to his knees at some point during his recital. David was up and had Kurt in his arms within seconds, holding to him tightly for a long, tight hug, then releasing for only long enough to readjust, putting their mouths together in a desperate kiss, eventually breaking apart to the roar of cheering and stomping and applause.

The people were won, but the council wouldn't prove as easy to convince.

 


End file.
